


painted through a dream

by somethingyousaid (izquierda16)



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: (haha get it??), (just the canon typical stuff), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Blue Spirit Zuko (Avatar), Gaang (Avatar) as Family, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Kidnapping, Platonic Soulmates, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates, Tags Contain Spoilers, The Gaang Learns How Zuko Got The Scar (Avatar), Zuko Joins The Gaang Early (Avatar), Zuko is an Awkward Turtleduck, but he's got the spirit, i'm a sucker for that soulmate shit, this content is unfiltered directly from my brain, this is MY story and i will include as many weird POVs as i want!, zuko's a little confused
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-19
Updated: 2021-02-11
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:33:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 22,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25987471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/izquierda16/pseuds/somethingyousaid
Summary: Somewhere in Ba Sing Se, four young friends wait with incomplete soulmarks.Somewhere in Ba Sing Se, Zuko discovers his destiny in the midst of a fever dream.
Relationships: Azula & Mai & Ty Lee, The Gaang & Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 227
Kudos: 1288
Collections: A:tla, avatar tingz





	1. breaking the fever

**Author's Note:**

> hey! this is my first ever fanfic, and i hope you enjoy it!

Zuko is dying. He knows it in his bones, the same way he can feel the sun rise each morning and set each night. How else can he explain the all-consuming heat roasting him from the inside? How else can he explain why he feels brittle like unfired clay?

He hasn’t felt heat like this consume him since his father— _don’t go there._

Zuko can’t decide if he’s roasting or freezing— that’s how he knows he’s meeting his end. He only wishes that it would come more peacefully; not accompanied by visions of Firelords, Avatars, and twin dragons.

The world has narrowed itself down to these few square feet on the floor of the apartment where he lies. Uncle’s calm, soothing voice barely penetrates his daze.

_“You are undergoing a metamorphosis, my nephew.”_

Zuko doesn’t have _time _to be going through a metamorphosis. Zuko is dying.__

———

“Katara! Hey, Katara!” Sokka yells, shattering the tranquility of the group’s Upper Ring apartment.

“Sokka, if you’re dragging me away from this for another stupid boomerang trick— ” Katara fires back, stopping short at the sight of her brother standing shirtless in the middle of their living space. Normally, this would call for heavy teasing, but she can see the panic in his eyes.

“The _mark_. I- it’s-” He gestures at his neck with his left hand. Katara leans in, and soon her expression is mirroring her brother’s.

“Aang! Toph! Get over here!”

Her mark, _their mark_ , the one that has lain unfinished for as long as she’s worn it, is flickering rapidly. The design is long, extending from the inside of her forearm, up and over her collarbone, to where it just touches the base of her neck. The mark depicts the four elements flowing and shifting into one another, spiraling around a traditional Water Tribe boomerang. Aang’s air, styled in light grey, shifts into Katara’s water, which shifts into Toph’s earth and metal, painted in vivid greens and browns. The last section of their shared mark remains incomplete— a stark black outline suggesting the presence of flames decorates each of their collarbones.

Aang and Toph run into the room a moment later. Aang sees Katara and Sokka’s state and quickly divests himself of his own shirt, craning his neck awkwardly to watch the mark as it flashes.

“Hey! Twinkletoes, Sugar Queen!” Toph yells, waving a hand in front of her eyes. “Care to explain?”

“It’s our mark, Toph,” Katara answers. “It’s- it’s flashing. The flames keep filling themselves in, then falling blank.”

Aang, Katara and Sokka have explained to her before how the mark’s colors fill in as each new soulmate is ready to be found. The process is usually gradual and beautiful, not unlike the process as color is added to a painting. It’s nothing like this sickly flashing, as jarring to the eye as lightning.

Toph grabs Katara’s hand, guides it to the place where her neck meets her collarbone. Her face is pensive, her usual confidence cracked and belaying a bit of worry.

“The flames...show me again.”

————

_“Is it your own destiny, or one that someone is trying to force on you?”_

If Zuko is dying, he shouldn’t be able to hear his Uncle Iroh’s voice rattling around his head in an endless cycle. If Zuko is dying, it shouldn’t be taking this long.

_“Who are you, and what do you want?”_

Zuko is a cracked pot roasting in the sun. Zuko wants to rest.

————

Aang is the first in their group to receive the mark. In a state of _hurtlossanger_ he loses himself to the Avatar State in the Southern Air Temple. Aang isn’t just an airbender, he is the air. The swirling, violent winds he surrounds himself with feel like part of his body— as necessary as his arms and legs. The winds will keep him safe, they won’t let him hurt again.

He’s almost too far gone to hear Katara’s voice. Almost, but not quite. His personal hurricane dies as she talks him back down to the earth.

“Sokka and I, we’re your family now, Aang,” she says in soothing tones.

Aang allows himself to be embraced, mourning the life he once knew.

_Still _, he thinks to himself, _maybe I haven’t lost everything yet.___

In that moment, the black outline of a soulmark traces itself line by line up his arm, just brushing the edges of his airbending tattoos. When he examines it later with Sokka and Katara, he finds it’s completely empty of color, save for the beautiful grey representation of his native element.

————

Sokka receives his mark just a short while later, on Kyoshi Island. In a dress and makeup, he has never felt more humbled. In a dress and _warpaint _, he has never felt more powerful.__

As Kyoshi Island falls under fire, he is proud to fight alongside Suki and her fellow warriors, wearing the colors of their home. Along with the battle’s adrenaline, he feels a deep kind of sadness as he realizes that his group’s sojourn on Kyoshi has come to an end. Sokka knows now that he has much, much more to learn.

After they’ve escaped the battle, flown away, and made camp for the night, Sokka finally peels away his Kyoshi armor for the last time. As he’s changing into his tunic, he spots the dark black lines decorating his right arm. The marking is the same as Aang’s, except the outline of a boomerang in the center is now filled with vibrant blue and silver, perfectly matching Sokka’s own.

————

Zuko is starting to feel as if death is not coming for him just yet. He can’t tell how much time he’s spent on this floor, sickly and delirious, not when his consciousness is foggy like a dream.

One moment, he finds himself in the Earth Kingdom, roasting from the inside out with fever. The next, he’s in the Fire Nation, resplendent in silk robes. The _Firelord’s_ silk robes. A curtain of flame roars before his throne _(weak flame, nowhere near as hot as Azula’s blue)_.

The twin dragons are back, circling his head and whispering in his ears. Everything about this situation is _wrongwrongwrong _.__

_They’re going to tear my mind in two_ , he thinks.

As Iroh watches, the black outline of a soulmark struggles to draw itself up his nephew’s arm.

————

Katara finds herself with a soulmark a while later, up in the Northern Water Tribe’s city. Denied again the chance to learn how to become a waterbending warrior, she does the only thing she can think of. Katara challenges a waterbending master, and holds her own.

The fight is fast-paced and innovative, embodying water’s changing nature. Katara’s mastery of the few bending skills she possesses is hard-earned, and she’s glad for that fact today. She has the stubbornness to dig in, to demand this battle, to fight for each and every one of her principles.

Katara doesn’t win the fight. No surprise, as she’s not a master yet. Someday, however, that title will be hers to claim. Encased in shards of ice, a soulmark paints itself into existence on her arm.

————

Toph doesn’t have a soulmark. At least, not that she knows of. Her parents, desperate to keep her at home, have never mentioned such a thing to her. None of her competitors at Earth Rumble 6 have ever taunted her with the appearance of one.

Earthbending lets her sense everything around her, but not colors, not markings on skin. So, Toph doesn’t have a soulmark.

She doesn’t have a soulmark, as she’s bested in the arena by an _airbender_ , and she doesn’t have one as she steals away from home in the dead of night. Toph walks out of her old life with her head held high, her sense of self secure.

However, the next morning, she’s met with gasps of shock and awe from all of her travelling companions.

“Hey, Twinkletoes, what’s all the fuss about?”

“Our marks changed last night!” Aang answers, his voice about two levels above elated.

“Wait, Toph, your arm! You’re our soulmate!” Sokka cries.

Toph can’t see her arm, but she can tell from their heartbeats that they aren’t lying to her. She feels a sense of belonging here, with these strangers— soulmates— that she’s never felt before in her life.

“Show me,” she says, placing their hands on her arm.

————

Zuko isn’t lying on the floor, nor is he lounging on a throne in Firelord robes. He can’t exactly see where he is, through a soft haze of colors that obscures his vision. Somehow, this doesn’t cause him to panic.

He can’t quite see, but he can feel. A many-armed embrace encircles him from all sides, enveloping him entirely.

_“What do you want?”_ he hears Uncle ask.

_This_ , he thinks to himself. _I want this._

————

Iroh watches as his nephew’s face finally eases, and the black lines of his soulmark race up his arm and shoulder with sudden purpose. Zuko’s arm fills with color, and Iroh smiles to himself.

Just a short while away, four soulmarks stop flickering, and paint themselves with warm yellow, red, and orange.


	2. the morning after

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zuko's wearing the mark of his enemies...and he can't bring himself to be angry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm in awe at the response the first chapter got! wow! so, here's chapter two! i messed with the timeline/some events a little bit, but this is mostly my retelling of The Guru, focusing on Zuko's perspective.

As Zuko finally sinks into a dreamless sleep, his soulmates lie awake, buzzing with anticipation and adrenaline. 

“So, who’s our fifth? Who are these flames for?” Sokka wonders aloud, not for the first time that night.

“Well, I’m gonna go ahead and guess that they’re a firebender,” Toph states.

Katara feels slightly ill. Ever since the mark appeared on her arm, she’s had to reckon with the idea that one of her soulmates would most likely be from the Fire Nation. Still, it had been easy to ignore that fact while the mark remained empty. Now, flames are licking up her collarbone in vibrant color, in such warm tones she can almost feel the heat.

 _The spirits wouldn’t send us the wrong soulmate,_ she reminds herself. _It doesn’t work like that._

 _Tui and La_ , it would be easier if this was a mistake. 

“Maybe they’ll be my firebending teacher!” Aang pushes himself up with a gust of wind. “You know, like how Katara and Toph taught me waterbending and earthbending!”

“That _is_ true,” Sokka says, stroking his chin. 

“We’re in the middle of the Earth Kingdom right now, guys. Besides, the only firebenders we know are Zuko and his freaky sister.” Toph shudders.

Aang looks slightly crestfallen for a moment, but then perks up. 

“Still, the mark revealed itself to us _now_ for a reason. They’re ready to be found! I don’t think they can be too far away.”

“Let’s talk about it more in the morning, okay?” Sokka yawns. 

As they retire, Katara can’t stop catching glimpses of Fire Nation red out of the corner of her eye. In the depths of her dreams that night, she sees Zuko, clad in armor, sending bursts of flame to lick up the side of her newly-completed soulmark. 

———

Zuko feels...different. 

_Agni, how long was I out?_ He wonders, groaning. He raises his arm to rake through his disheveled hair, only to freeze at the sight of bright color out of the corner of his eye.

_What the f—_

There’s a soulmark, an enormous, _complete_ soulmark crawling up his arm. One with a very, very familiar design. Iroh takes him by the arm, holding it out to admire his mark.

“Nephew, such a large, vibrant mark can only mean that the spirits have great things in store for you. _This_ is who you were meant to become.”

They both know where they have seen this mark before. Zuko can’t bring himself to stir up the old feelings of anger and indignation he knows would have accompanied such a revelation in the past. In a strange, ironic way, this pairing makes sense. He feels light, hopeful— more than he ever has in his life. 

“I am proud of you, Prince Zuko. Soulmarks only come to those who have found their way, who are ready to _be_ found.”

Zuko can’t quite acknowledge his uncle’s sentiments in words. That would be too much, too soon. There is no anger burning in his chest, but he still feels warm. He gives a nod, and grins.

“It’s a new day. Things are looking up, Uncle.”

Zuko sneaks glances at his arm all throughout the Jasmine Dragon’s grand opening, reveling in the feeling of having a mark of love decorate his skin instead of just marks of shame. 

———

Aang has this Avatar spirituality stuff _down._ Seriously, he’s a pro. Drink copious amounts of onion-banana juice? Check. Unlock chakras? Check. Master the Avatar State? Almost check.

As he prepares for the final meditation, he feels strangely confident. 

“The Thought Chakra is located at the crown of your head. It deals with the universe’s pure cosmic energy. Think of what attaches you to this world, Aang,” Guru Pathik says.

Aang’s soulmark seems to warm, and he feels almost as if he is in the presence of his soulmates. He can hear Sokka’s sarcastic jabs, Katara’s soothing voice, and feel Toph’s affectionate punches. He thinks of his last, unknown soulmate too, sensing a warm, protective presence. He doesn’t know them yet, but Aang finds he already cares deeply for them.

“Now, let go of these attachments.”

 _Let go? How could he possibly let go?_ Aang says no less aloud.

“You must learn to let go, or you will never master the Avatar State.”

Aang bows his head, and attempts to reenter his meditative trance. The universe surrounds him, power is within his reach, just feet away down a glowing path. Just as he is about to make his final steps, he is met with a terrible sight— Katara in chains, calling his name desperately. He jerks away, falling out of his meditation once more. 

“Aang, come back! If you leave now, you will lock your chakra, and won’t be able to enter the Avatar State at all!” Pathik cries.

Aang glances at his arm, awash with color. He’s never wanted power. Just love. Flying away feels almost easy.

———

Not even snobby, entitled customers can sour Zuko’s mood, which really speaks far more than words possibly could. He doesn’t shout when he is yelled at for an incorrect order that wasn’t incorrect at all; he doesn’t feel the need to spit sparks every time he is called “boy” in a cold, haughty tone. Most importantly, he no longer feels the burning drive to search, to hunt. Zuko is on his path, content to let destiny find him in its own way.

The Jasmine Dragon has been packed with Upper Ring customers all day, and he’s hardly had a chance to rest. He’s even half-convinced he saw that Katara girl (his _soulmate_ ) at one point, but it must have been a trick of the light.

As the day finally winds to an end, Zuko and Iroh are greeted by the sight of a messenger, clad in expensive silk robes. He bows, presenting a scroll to Uncle.

“I come bearing a message from His Highness, the Earth King.”

Iroh reads the scroll, and looks up, elated.

“What is it, Uncle?”

“We have been invited to serve tea to the Earth King himself! I better find my best jasmine!”

Zuko smiles to himself, and returns to sweeping the floor. _Things are looking up._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> again, thank you, thank you all for reading! i should've started this fanfic thing earlier...
> 
> anyways, these upcoming weeks are pretty packed with major life events for me, so updates will be very sporadic. i loved reading your reactions on the first chapter, so if you have any more, leave them down below!
> 
> next stop, crossroads of destiny!


	3. down in the catacombs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "And now, you have come to the crossroads of your destiny."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the moment you've all been waiting for! this chapter's a big one (longer than the last two combined), mostly because this episode is what inspired this AU in the first place. i thought about splitting it up, but ultimately i couldn't make myself do it. enjoy it!

Things are  _ very much _ not looking up anymore, Zuko decides. He and Uncle are completely surrounded by Ba Sing Se’s eerie secret police. And of course, the Dai Li are all somehow in Azula’s pocket. Zuko is surprised, not shocked. Things usually have a way of working out like this for him.

_ Agni, is one day of peace really all the universe can spare for me? _

_ Apparently so, _ he answers himself, ducking behind Uncle’s breath of fire as the fight begins. Gloves made of rock and pieces of stone fly through the air, just barely missing the two firebenders as they tear away down a palace hallway. Iroh pauses just a moment, generating a bolt of lightning with a crackle that sets Zuko’s hair on end. He lets loose, blowing a hole open in the palace wall.

“Come on, nephew!”

Zuko is exhausted. Zuko is angry once more.

“No. I’m tired of running. I need to face Azula myself.”

Zuko catches the overwhelming look of disappointment on his uncle’s face as he turns away from the wall, and forces himself to shove down the accompanying shame it rouses in him. He can feel flames in the back of his throat.

“What? Going to challenge me to an Agni Kai?” Azula snorts. Sparks fly from Zuko’s nostrils.

“Yes.”

“Hm...let me think...no.”

Zuko sends flames flying from his fists, but Azula’s earthbenders overwhelm him, rock gloves pinning down each of his limbs. It’s not a fair fight, but he can’t believe he’s lost so quickly.

_ Stupid, stupid, stupid! _

He’s encased in rock as the Dai Li march him underneath the palace into chambers glistening with green crystal. With each step downwards, he can feel the distance between himself and the sun growing in his inner flame.

———

Sokka is getting tired of surprises. Really, really tired. These last few months have dramatically raised his threshold of tolerance for shocking events, but he still feels like he needs to lie down when Toph introduces Zuko’s old uncle—  _ The Dragon of the West _ — as an old friend. 

“Toph- I- He...he can’t come in here!” He raises his boomerang, and Aang does the same with his staff. 

“How do you know each other?” Aang says. Toph raises her hands in a placating gesture.

“We shared a cup of tea once in the woods. He gives really great advice.”

“May I come in? I need your help,” Iroh asks, and is met with a nod from Toph. Sokka notes that the man’s body language is non-threatening, but can’t shake thoughts of Iroh’s firebending prowess from his mind. Reluctantly, he sheaths his boomerang, and steps aside. 

“Why would you need our help?” Sokka can’t help the cold edge of distrust that seeps into his words. The general sighs.

“Princess Azula is in Ba Sing Se.” 

This statement sweeps through the group like a shockwave. Aang straightens, fumbling with his staff.

“Katara! She has Katara!”

“My nephew, as well.” 

“Well,” Aang says, with fresh determination. “We’ll rescue Katara  _ and _ Zuko then.”

“You lost me at ‘and Zuko’,” Sokka interjects.  _ Seriously, has he forgotten all the time that ponytailed stress case spent chasing us around the world? _

Iroh approaches Sokka then, his eyes focused on the mark on his arm.

“I know what my nephew has done to you. I know how you must feel about him. I must assure you, however, that he is much changed. There is good within him.” This last statement is punctuated with a pointed glance at the flames licking their way up Sokka’s shoulder.

_ He can’t possibly— there’s no way—  _

Sokka shoves traitorous thoughts about soulmates aside. This is the  _ Fire Nation. _

“Who cares if there’s good  _ inside  _ him? That’s not enough! Come back when it’s  _ outside _ him too!”

Aang fixes Sokka with a pointed, pleading look. 

“Katara’s in danger. The whole city’s in danger. We need his help.”

Sokka rubs his arm, right above the twisting water and ice that represents his sister. His  _ missing _ sister. In his mind’s eye, he sees blue flame, he sees Katara kneeling at the feet of the psychotic Fire Nation princess.

_ We can’t trust him. But… _ He steels himself, gives Aang a reluctant nod.  _ For Katara. _

This is  _ not _ how Sokka expected his night to go. 

———

Katara hates these crystals. No amount of waterbending has been enough to make them yield, not even the precise slashes that were sufficient to cut through metal before in the Fire Nation’s drill. She’s well and truly stuck, until an earthbender comes along. 

_ Good thing I know two of those, _ she thinks, fully expecting a rescue party to come for her. It’s only a matter of time.

When the wall starts to crumble and slide apart to form a door, she’s expecting to be met with Toph’s smirk, or Aang’s wide grin. Instead, she sees a platoon of Dai Li soldiers, who throw a very familiar-looking boy to the ground. The crystalline walls resolidify, and they’re trapped once again. He slowly shuffles into a seated position, and Katara’s mouth drops open.

“Zuko? What are you doing here?” There’s a deadly edge to her voice. Zuko says nothing. It’s like talking to a wall— a dangerous, firebending wall.

“Hm, let me guess,” Katara muses. “This is just another trap. As soon as Aang bursts in to rescue me, you’ll finally have him in your evil Fire Nation clutches.”

Zuko turns, meets her eyes for the briefest moment, and still says nothing. 

_ Really?  _ Katara thinks.  _ This is how you want to play it? _ She feels white-hot anger course through her, catching all rational thought in a rip current, sending it out to sea. 

“You know, Zuko, you’re a terrible person! You and all of your Fire Nation buddies! Chasing us to the ends of the world, dead-set on killing the world’s last chance for peace. But you wouldn’t care about any of that, would you,  _ Prince _ Zuko? Violence and hate is in your blood, just like your father!”

“You have no idea what you’re talking about!” 

_ Finally, a response. _

“Oh, I don’t? You have no idea what this war has put all of us through!” She pauses, running her left hand over her right arm, gesturing at each of the symbols of her soulmark in turn. “You have no idea what this war has put  _ me _ through! I lost my mother to the Fire Nation.”

With this, Katara clutches her necklace, sobbing. Behind her, Zuko turns around.

“I’m sorry,” Zuko says. “That’s something we have in common.” His voice is naturally raspy, but his tone now hints at something more, something like genuine pain.  _ Spirits. _

“I- I’m sorry I yelled at you before.” Katara says.  _ Tui and La, am I really apologizing to Zuko? _

“It’s okay,” Zuko shrugs.

“Not really. It’s just— for so long, when I would picture the enemy, it was your face.”

“Oh. My face.” Zuko raises his hand to his scar, lightly tracing it with one fingertip. The loose sleeve of his robe rides up slightly as he does so, revealing the beginnings of his soulmark on his forearm.

_ No. It can’t be. Their greatest enemy can’t possibly be their missing piece. Right? _

“I- your- Zuko, your  _ mark. _ ”

“Uh, yeah? You know, I’ve spent a long time thinking that this mark defined me,” Zuko says, oblivious to Katara’s realization. “A mark of shame, the mark of a traitor. Cursed to chase the Avatar forever. No. I’ve realized now that I’m free to find my own destiny, wherever it takes me.”

_ He’s really getting into this monologue _ .

“Spirits, no, Zuko. Not your  _ face. _ Your  _ arm. _ ”

Zuko flushes bright red, then goes pale. He tugs his sleeve down, hiding his right arm from view.

“I’m not sure what you’re talking about.”

“The other night. Was that you? The flames?”

“Uh-”

“Can I see it?”

Zuko sighs. He seems to be weighing the decision over heavily in his head. Finally, he nods, untying and shrugging off his outer robe, revealing his full soulmark.

_ There’s no denying it now, _ Katara thinks. The design is exactly the same as the one on her arm. She inches closer, fingers hovering just above the mark on his arm.

“May I?”

Zuko nods tentatively, exhaling a shaky breath. She’s just barely started tracing the bold black lines of their mark when the wall opens once more. The pair step away from each other in shock.

“Aang!”

“Katara!”

Katara flies into her other soulmate’s arms.  _ I knew he would come. _

Across the room, Zuko looks as if he’s short-circuiting.

“Uncle, you’re with— why? The Avatar? What are you doing with him?”

“Saving  _ you _ , for one,” Aang says, pulling away from Katara. There’s an edge of anger in his usually tranquil voice. The old man inclines his head at the pair.

“Go on, help your friends. My nephew and I need to have a talk.”

As Katara walks out of the cave, she meets Zuko’s eyes— her soulmate’s eyes— one last time. His gaze is shattered, full of hurt, anger, and confusion. 

_ Come with us, _ a voice inside her wants to plead. She shoves it away. They have an escape to make.

———

Zuko can’t take any more of this. His world has been inverted far too many times in the last few days. His uncle? Working with the Avatar? Not actively chasing the Avatar and his posse is one thing, but working with him? It’s almost too much to fathom.

“Why, Uncle?” He asks. It’s the only thing he can articulate.  _ Why now? Why ever? Why him? _

“You’ve changed, Zuko. You’re stronger, wiser, more caring than you used to be. You can walk your own path. And now, you have come to the crossroads of your destiny. It is time for you to choose your own way in the world.” Iroh aims a pointed glance at his arm. “You are worthy of each other, now. It is time to choose good.”

_ Could I— I mean, they’re my soulmates, but— I can’t—  _

Suddenly, the ground starts to shake beneath his feet.  _ Earthbenders. _ He raises his hands in defense, just as crystals grow from the ground to encase his uncle in a prison. Several figures walk through the hole in the crystalline wall.

_ Earthbenders and Azula? _ The Fire Nation princess enters the chamber with her Dai Li guards. Zuko subconsciously angles his soulmarked arm away from her, as if it is a weakness to be protected.

“Aw, the Fire Nation’s favorite traitors, all in one place!” Her voice is light, mocking.

“Let him go, Azula.”

“This is really quite interesting. Uncle, a traitor, that I could see. But you, Zuko? A traitor? Is that really who you are?” Azula’s voice is probing, worrying the deepest recesses of his mind.

Zuko stands with his scarred side facing Azula. He won’t face her head-on. He won’t give her the satisfaction. He shuts his eyes. 

“Let him  _ go _ .”

“Zuko, join me. Together, we can take down the Avatar, and all of the Fire Nation will welcome you home as a hero. I will  _ personally  _ vouch for your honor to Father.”

Azula offers him his goal, the thing he’s spent three years of his life chasing, on a silver platter. Behind his eyelids, he can almost see a blue dragon whispering the same sickly promises into his ear.

“Prince Zuko,” Iroh pleads, his tone steeped with urgency. “The kind of salvation she offers is not for you.”

_ I could— it would be so easy to—  _

“Zuzu, I’ve missed you. You’ll have my love, Father’s love. Come home.”

_ They’re going to tear my mind in two _ .

“Choose what you like, brother. I’ll be waiting down below.” Azula walks away, trailed by her Dai Li entourage, her voice echoing slightly in the crystalline tunnels.

Iroh’s grip tightens on his arm, and Zuko’s eyes fly open. He remembers a tight, secure, invisible embrace, he remembers Katara’s hand tracing the lines of his mark. He spins to face his uncle.

“I know what I need to do.”

———

Pure adrenaline rushes through Katara’s veins as she dodges bolts of blue fire. She and Aang dance around each other in perfect harmony, countering Azula’s ferocious attacks with force that rattles the subterranean cavern. Azula may be a master, but so are Katara and Aang.

Just as they’ve backed her into a corner, another figure approaches, hands raised. A stream of warm orange fire shoots between them and Azula.  _ Zuko _ , Katara realizes.

_ Spirits,  _ please _ let him have actually changed. _

Zuko advances on the trio, his outer tunic still missing, leaving his matching soulmark fully on display. He stops at Katara’s side, stance indicating he’s ready to throw fire in Azula’s direction.

“Ah, I see how it is, now.” Azula laughs. “The Traitor Prince, with a traitor’s mark! It all makes sense!”

“I’m glad you’re here,” Katara whispers to Zuko. Aang looks shocked, to say the least.

“Uh, me too! I guess?” Aang says, aiming for enthusiasm.

Zuko replies with a small, wobbly smile. They’ll take what they can get. 

“You know, Zuzu,” Azula croons, still circling them in a defensive stance. “Before I saw that little tattoo of yours, I really was going to let you join me. You could’ve come home, earned back your honor and Father’s respect.”

Katara watches out of the corner of her eye as Zuko stiffens ever so slightly. His hands, unwavering, remain poised to fire an attack, but his emotions are betrayed by the small sparks flying from his nostrils. Whatever Azula is picking at, it’s really bothering him.

_ For the love of Tui,  _ why _ is he so obsessed with his honor? _

“My orders were to bring you home one way or another.” Azula sighs, feigning disappointment. “Since you’ve made it impossible to let me return with you as a hero, I suppose you’ll have to come back dead, as a traitor.”

Zuko screams, fire pouring from his fists like a flaming tsunami. Azula parts the inferno easily, not even a hair out of place. Katara uncaps her bending water, holding it at the ready. Aang mirrors her motions, pointing his staff at Azula. The two of them have Zuko’s six, but he doesn’t seem to notice. Right now, the Fire Nation siblings only have eyes for each other.

They circle each other, arms raised in attack position. This is a battle, yes, but it is equal parts a conversation. Azula counters with a spinning kick and punch of blue flame that Zuko knocks aside easily. She may be a prodigy, but he is no less a master firebender for it. 

“Now that I’m thinking it over, dear brother, I almost think Father would prefer my current plan.” Azula punctuates this latest sentiment with a simpering smile. She’s enjoying herself far too much.

_ Spirits, this is like a  _ game _ to her. _ Katara realizes, a sick feeling settling in her stomach.

“Shut. Up.” Sparks fly from Zuko’s mouth, unbidden.

“Well, come on now! Did you never stop to consider that Father might not have  _ wanted _ you to return when he sent you on your little fool’s errand?”

“SHUT UP!” 

Real flames, not just sparks, accompany this latest exclamation. Katara can hear the pure, raw, broken-glass hurt in Zuko’s voice. Clearly, this is something they’ll need to discuss later.

_ Later, _ she promises herself, as she and Aang jump into battle to defend their soulmate. It’s clear that Azula has just been toying with them up to this point. Unbearably hot blue flame seems to surround the trio, more powerful than she ever thought was possible. 

(Aside, Katara can’t help but think how sickly and alien it looks in comparison to the warm reds and oranges that mark her skin.)

Katara is struck with gratitude for the fact that Zuko is fighting on  _ their _ side. If he had joined Azula, she and Aang surely would’ve been outmatched. The trio fight in almost-perfect harmony— gusts of wind amplifying orange flames, walls of water and earth shielding them all from Azula’s deadly blasts. Perhaps, in a strange way, all their time fighting one another, studying each others’ attack methods, had prepared them for this exact moment. 

Azula is one of the most talented benders of her time, perhaps of all time. There’s no doubt about that. Still, under the combined force of three masters, she begins to waver a little.

“Zuzu, I really must say I’m disappointed,” she says, panting the slightest bit.

“I’m not,” Katara replies, throwing another blast of ice shards Azula’s way. 

The battle continues, three on one. Slowly, steadily, the trio are gaining ground, backing the princess into a corner once more.

_ Tui and La, we might actually win this! _

The walls of the cavern start to shake, and Azula smirks. Dozens of Dai Li agents are earthbending down from the ceiling, landing in a perfect circle, surrounding them completely.

“There’s too many,” Aang says, crestfallen. Katara can’t help but think he’s right. They had hardly been holding their own against Azula. Now, they have to fight Azula  _ and _ dozens of master earthbenders? Aang seats himself on the ground in a lotus position.

“I’m sorry, guys.” Walls of crystal surround him, enclosing him completely. Now, Katara and Zuko are the only ones left on the battlefield.

“What now?” He asks her, out of breath.

Katara sighs, and bends the water to her in an octopus formation. Zuko glances her way, and ignites his hands, mirroring her stance with whips made of flame.

“We cover Aang, for as long as he needs it. Together.”

Opposites in harmony, Katara and Zuko launch into battle, taking turns fighting the legions of Dai Li and Azula. They hold their ground, carving an almost-perfect circle into the lines of their attackers.

Abruptly, Aang’s crystal shelter begins to glow, and  _ there he is _ , hovering above them all, ready to do battle in the Avatar State. Katara and Zuko meet eyes for just a moment, sharing a look of hope and relief.

It’s a moment too soon, as a bolt of lightning shoots at Aang from below, striking him perfectly in the middle of his back. The glowing ceases, and Aang’s lifeless body is falling to the floor.

_ No no no no no _ , Katara chants internally, bending a cradle of water to catch him as he falls.  _ No no no no no. _

Distantly, she can hear Zuko’s outraged yell as she rushes to Aang’s body. Blasts of earth and blue fire send him closer and closer to the pair on the ground, as their attacks beat him back quickly. Katara looks up, just as another wall of fire blazes into existence, this time protecting the trio from the brunt of the onslaught.

“That wasn’t me,” Zuko says. He catches sight of the unknown firebender. “Uncle!”

“Go, nephew!” The old general shouts. “You all must go! I will hold them off as long as I can.”

Katara is shocked from her stupor. She stands up, gathering Aang in her arms. There’s a waterfall on the side of the cavern.

_ The water has to come from somewhere… _

She runs, Zuko on her tail, Aang in her arms, as Zuko’s uncle clears their path. Using the last recesses of her power, she waterbends them up and out of the cavern. Katara looks to her side, assuring herself that both of her soulmates are with her. She’s met with the sight of Zuko, one tear rolling down his unscarred cheek, watching through the water as his uncle fights an army alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i honestly did not envision myself updating this fic as frequently as i have, but i gotta ride the wave of productivity while it's here! 
> 
> i have no idea how far i want to take this story at the moment. rest assured though, the gaang needs to talk about their feelings before i'm done with them.


	4. above the earth kingdom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zuko's turned his back on the Fire Nation, his family, and the prospect of ever returning home. So, now what?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm back!! hope you all enjoy! :)

Zuko’s not sure how much more of this uneasy silence he can take. He never thought he would be riding on the back of the Avatar’s sky bison without someone shooting blasts of air or water at him. He almost wishes they  _ would  _ throw something at him, just so he can feel some sense of normalcy again.

_ You’re with them now, _ he reminds himself.  _ You made your choice.  _

The mood of the night is somber, and Zuko’s pretty sure that’s the only reason that he hasn’t been interrogated by the Water Tribe warrior. No one’s spoken a word since Katara, between sobs, managed to pull Aang back from the brink of death with some of the most impressive waterbending that Zuko’s ever seen. 

The warrior—  _ Sokka _ , he reminds himself—has taken the Avatar’s usual seat guiding the bison through the air. Zuko would ask where they’re headed, but he doesn’t want to be the one to rupture the night’s uneasy silence. The blind earthbender— _ Toph _ —sits near the front, holding onto the enormous saddle for dear life. Katara sits beside her, nearly catatonic, Aang resting in her lap. Zuko sits at the very back of the saddle, legs tightly crossed, as if doing so would make his presence less obtrusive. 

Zuko stares out at Ba Sing Se’s gargantuan walls, slowly receding in the distance. The bison flies along, much faster than one would expect, skirting the edges of the cloud cover. He can feel his heartbeat in every inch of his body. 

_ This is how they must have felt, all those times I chased them,  _ Zuko realizes with sickening clarity. Rubbing his soulmark, he entertains the idea of running away as soon as they touch down. 

_ What am I doing here? They don’t want me!  _ He feels sick to his stomach, and the sight of trees zipping along below them isn’t really helping. 

_ Breathe, Prince Zuko _ , he can almost hear Uncle saying.  _ Oh Agni, Uncle. _ He had left Uncle, the only family member who actually cared about him, alone to fight legions of earthbenders and Azula by himself. Uncle is the Dragon of the West, one of the best firebenders of their age, but Zuko still can’t fathom a situation where he could have emerged victorious. Images flood his mind— Iroh in manacles of rock, blue flames licking around him—  _ stop. Breathe. _

Zuko takes a few deep, shuddering breaths. He fixes his eyes on the horizon, where the great outer wall of Ba Sing Se has become little more than a smudge. His eyes don’t move from the spot as the city becomes a speck, then disappears completely. He’s so intent on this point, in fact, that he almost doesn’t notice as they start descending towards the wooded areas below.

“Hey, Snoozles,” Toph says, breaking the hours-long silence. “What’s happening?”

“We’re stopping for the night. Appa can’t keep flying at this speed, and we all need to rest.” Sokka’s voice has a new, more somber tone to it, one that Zuko’s never heard in all of their encounters. They touch down with a start, and Zuko is jostled from his position at the back. Sokka jumps down, helping Toph with him. He then returns to the saddle, rousing his sister with obvious care.

“Katara. Hey, Katara,” he whispers. Katara opens her eyes, still puffy and bloodshot from crying.

“Hm?”

“We’re going to bed.” Sokka’s loving gaze hardens as he glances at Zuko. “And, not that I don’t trust your judgement, but we need to talk about you-know-who.”

_ Run. Run now, _ a small voice inside Zuko insists. Just as he’s bracing for a fight, it becomes evident that Katara is far too tired to have any sort of conversation. Her head lolls back down as she drifts back to sleep, only to start back awake abruptly.

“What’d you say?” she mumbles. Sokka shakes his head, sighing.

“Nothing important.” He lifts Aang from where he rests in Katara’s lap, and carries him down to where Toph has started making a camp of earthen tents, Katara wearily following. Zuko takes a deep breath, gingerly swinging himself down from the saddle. 

_ Agni, I can’t do this.  _

He’s still standing uneasily by the bison when Toph and Sokka come back, starting a bit when he realizes they’re standing right next to him.

“Come over here,” Sokka says. “We need to talk to you.”

_ They weren’t down in the catacombs, _ Zuko thinks with a start.  _ For all they know, I still have it out for them.  _

They lead him back to their camp, walking past Katara fast asleep in one of Toph’s earth tents. Zuko can’t seem to shake the uneasiness that lies over him like a heavy robe, the sensation that he is walking towards his own doom. Toph makes a gesture with her hand, and three seats made of stone rise from the earth. She gives a little wave, and Zuko sits down opposite the pair. 

“So, neither of us were around for what happened down there. We saw your uncle earlier, but we got a little sidetracked by the coup while you were fighting.” Sokka pauses, rubbing his arm. “Obviously, I would’ve liked to have this conversation earlier,  _ with Katara _ , but that’s not happening now.”

“Luckily,” Toph interjects. “We have the next best thing! I can sense people’s heartbeats with my earthbending. So, I can tell if you’re lying.”

“Katara obviously trusted you enough to let you come with us. What we want to know is  _ why _ .”

Zuko’s heart is racing out of his chest. He’s faced them countless times, fought them and followed them to the ends of the earth. This is a million times more important than any of their other interactions. This time, Zuko has to convince them that he’s no longer their enemy— that he deserves to be their friend.

_ But do I? _

“Whoa,” Toph says. “Your heart is going  _ crazy _ .”

“Uh-”

“I can tell if you’re lying,” she says in a singsong voice.

_ Breathe, nephew, _ he imagines Iroh saying. 

“Start from the beginning,” Sokka says, leaning forward. “Why’d you get the mark now?”

Zuko takes a deep breath, inhaling long enough that he can feel his inner flame start to settle.

“From the beginning,” Zuko says. “Under Lake Laogai, I freed your bison. Long Feng had him locked in one of the chambers down there.” Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Sokka look to Toph with wide eyes. A thoughtful expression replaces her usual grin as she nods in return.

“I let him go, instead of using him to chase you down. We just...left. When Uncle and I got back to our apartment, I got sick. Really sick. I was in and out of fever dreams for a while.” Zuko grimaces, remembering the night’s delusions. “Uncle said I was going through a metamorphosis.”

“The flashing…” Sokka says in a wondering tone. Toph punches his upper arm.

“Care to share with the group, Sokka?” Sokka sighs, then fixes his eyes on Zuko. 

“That night, the flames on our soulmarks were flashing. The color’s supposed to fill in slowly, then become permanent. For us, it was filling up, then disappearing in the blink of an eye. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“I didn’t see any of that,” Zuko says. “When I passed out, my arm was like normal. When I woke up the next day, the mark was fully formed.”

“So, what’d you do to make the flashing stop?” Toph asks.

_ Oh, Agni.  _ Zuko thinks of the tipping point, the dream of his nameless, faceless soulmates embracing him.  _ Do I really need to lose the last of my dignity?  _

“I...don’t remember.”

“Lie!” Toph sings. Sokka fixes Zuko with a nasty look.

“So, I was going in and out of these dreams,” Zuko says with a sigh. “Everyone’s yelling at me to decide what I want, what my destiny is. I thought my head was going to split in half. Everything felt really real, you know?”

He looks up to meet Sokka’s gaze briefly, before staring back at his feet. 

“They’re asking me ‘What do you want?’, and I didn’t  _ know _ .” He rubs at the mark subconsciously. “Then I had this last dream. I couldn’t really see, but I could feel all these people around me. It wasn’t strange, though. It was...nice. And I just thought, in that moment, that  _ that _ was what I wanted. I don’t remember anything after that.”

“Truth,” Toph says, a hint of wonder in her voice. Zuko chances a look back up at their faces. Sokka is staring at him, dead-on. He doesn’t seem quite as upset with him as before. 

“Okay,” Sokka says, at last. “Now, the rest of it.”

“The next day, my uncle and I received an invitation to serve tea to the Earth King.”

Zuko continues, detailing Azula’s ambush with the Dai Li, his failed Agni Kai challenge, and his subsequent imprisonment with Katara. He’s just gotten past the part where Katara had seen his soulmark when Sokka motions for him to pause, walking off into the trees. He returns a few minutes later, arms filled with old branches that he deposits in their midst.

“If I have to listen to a firebender, I should  _ at least _ be warm while doing it.”

Zuko lights a small campfire, and continues with his story, telling of Azula’s offer, Uncle’s final persuasion, his decision to join Katara and Aang in the cavern, conveniently leaving out Azula’s taunts. He gets all the way through his Uncle’s sacrifice and their escape, his voice only wavering a small amount. The campfire is burnt down to crackling embers.

“That’s...wow,” Sokka says, at a loss for words. Toph leans over, giving Zuko a punch on the arm.

“As much as I’d love to sit and chat, I need some sleep,” she says. She walks a short distance, then raises another earth tent around herself. 

Sokka and Zuko stare at each other across the coals. Zuko doesn’t want to be the one to break the silence— he’s done his fair share of talking tonight. Finally, Sokka sighs, then gets to his feet.

“I’m not over what you did, chasing us around for months.” Zuko feels his heart drop into his feet. “But, we really are soulmates. You chose to help Katara and Aang when it mattered most.” Sokka looks down at his arm.

“This says that you’re ready to be our soulmate. So, I’m ready to give this a shot.”

Zuko can’t quite believe his ears. He had never imagined  _ acceptance _ from his soulmates, not after the way he had treated them.

“I’m truly sorry for what I did. For better or for worse, I’m done with the Fire Nation. I want to make the wrong I did right. I want to help you.”

Sokka gives him a nod, and the barest hint of a smile before retreating into his tent.

Zuko flops on the ground, heart still racing. As he lays by the embers, just before drifting off to sleep, he thinks back to Sokka’s request for a fire. Although he hadn’t seen it for what it was at the time, he understands now. A not-insignificant act of trust— inviting your once-greatest firebending enemy to use that power, a power he had wielded against them far too many times to count.

_ Sokka trusted me not to hurt them, _ Zuko thinks. He almost can’t believe it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the little leave of absence there! once again, updates on this fic will be very sporadic, mostly because i'm moving in the upcoming weeks and i have a lot of stuff to get together before i go. rest assured, i do NOT intend on abandoning this fic.
> 
> let me know how you felt about this one in the comments!! (also, 200+ kudos???? wow!) i'm so grateful for all of you reading this story!


	5. by the campfire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Katara fills in the last few (intentional) blanks in Zuko's story.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> great opportunity for one of my favorite tags....hope you all enjoy!

Katara wakes with a splitting headache and heavy limbs. Her gaze meets heavy walls of stone, and on reflex she forces her exhausted body into a bending stance. Just as she’s uncapping her bending water, she hears Sokka and Toph’s familiar banter outside the stone enclosure, which she now recognizes as one of Toph’s tents. 

“—Toph, did you not see the tag on my bag? It very clearly says ‘Sokka’s stuff, do not touch!’”

“Yeah, I  _ saw _ the tag. I just couldn’t resist poking around! I wanted to  _ read _ those drama scrolls I know you keep in there.”

“Well, if you wanted to borrow the scrolls you should’ve just— oh.”

Katara steps out of the tent, yawning, and is greeted with the sight of Toph rolling around on the ground laughing. She makes her way over to the campfire, reclining against a rock. She can’t remember the last time she was this tired after a fight. Using the water from the spirit oasis to heal Aang must’ve taken a lot more out of her than she had thought. 

_ Oh, Spirits. Aang! _

She moves to stand, and is met with a solid hand on her shoulder, pushing her back down. Sokka, recovered from his earlier embarrassment, stands over her.

“Sokka, I need to check on him!”

“Katara,” he says in a soft tone that makes her more than a little angry. “You need to rest. Toph’s listening to his heartbeat right now. We’ll know if something’s wrong.”

Toph has made her way over to the circle as well, and aims a smile in Katara’s general direction.

“But— his wound! It definitely needs more healing!” Katara protests.

“You can check on him  _ after  _ you eat and rest a bit,” Sokka says. “Key word: after. He’s not exactly going anywhere.”

A warm bowl of soup appears at Katara’s side, and she flinches a bit in surprise.  _ Zuko. _

“Zuko, you snuck up on me there! Uh, thanks for the soup,” she says, accepting the bowl.

“Oh! Sorry about that.”

It’s hard for her to reconcile the old Zuko with the one who sits before her today, bashful and apologetic. Just a few months ago, he had been filled with fiery anger and unrelenting drive. Katara used to fantasize about the day she would finally stop his mad search for good, burying him in ice until he finally swore to stay away. Now, he sits quietly next to her, a matching soulmark on his arm, using his bending to carefully tend to the campfire. It feels strange, but also  _ right _ , in ways that she can’t quite articulate.

“So, Sokka and I got a chance last night to talk to Sparky here about what happened in Ba Sing Se,” Toph says, creating and destroying miniature statues as she speaks. “It sounded like the full story, but is there anything you wanted to add?”

“First, I just want to make sure of something,” Katara says. She gestures between the three of them with her head. “Are you all, like, okay with each other?” 

“Well, I wasn’t exactly thrilled at first,” Sokka replies. “More… confused. But, Zuko explained what happened, and I understand why you brought him with you. I trust you, and I trust that he was telling the truth, so we’re good.”

“Sokka, Toph, I really am sorry for making such a big decision without telling you why. Everything just happened so quickly.”

Toph waves her apology away. “In case you hadn’t noticed, he  _ is  _ our soulmate. I think that means you made the right call.  _ Both _ of you,” she says, gesturing between Katara and Zuko.

Katara can feel the flames of the campfire growing just the smallest bit warmer, even though Zuko’s eyes are firmly trained on his own bowl of soup. Thinking back to Sokka’s request, there  _ is  _ one thing about that night that sticks out in her mind. She had pushed her initial confusion to the side during the heat of battle, but now… 

“Zuko, all those things Azula was saying down there,” she starts. “She offered you a chance to reclaim your honor?”

Katara looks over at Zuko’s face, the increasingly rapid flickering of the campfire adding a level of eeriness to his expression. He looks up from the soup bowl he holds with whitening knuckles, finally meeting her gaze.

“After you and Aang left the cell, Azula found Uncle and I talking inside. From the way I was standing, she hadn’t seen your— uh, our— mark. So, she offered me a choice. Azula said that my honor could be restored, that I could come home with her if I helped her fight you guys.”

Thinking back on all of Zuko’s rants about honor, Katara is struck by a new wave of gratitude for his actions last night. 

“You and your honor, man. What is with that?” Sokka says, drumming on the sides of his soup bowl. 

“In the Fire Nation, it’s… a big deal. Sometimes it’s the only thing you have. Banishment… being stripped of your honor and your homeland in that way… many would prefer death.”

“What could you have possibly done to deserve that?” Katara blurts out.

She looks over at Zuko, finding him deathly pale. The earthen bowl in his hands is beginning to crack, like poorly finished pottery meeting the kiln. 

“Hey, Zuko,” Toph calls out. “Your heart’s going crazy. Take a breather.”

“I was disrespectful to an important general during a war meeting.” Zuko forces the words out through gritted teeth as if each one pains him. His left hand lets go of the ruined bowl and makes a small, aborted movement towards his face. The  _ scarred _ side of his face. 

_ Oh, Spirits, no,  _ Katara thinks. In a sad sort of way, it makes sense.  _ That scar was no training accident. The general burnt him on purpose. _

Katara doesn’t think he’s aware of what he had just signaled to the rest of the group. Turning slightly, she meets a wide-eyed Sokka, and knows that he just came to the same conclusion as she had. 

“I was disrespectful. Then I was banished. They told me not to come back until I had found the Avatar,” Zuko carries on, unaware.

“Azula called it ‘a fool’s errand’,” Katara thinks out loud, a sickening feeling growing in her stomach. “Zuko. When were you banished?”

“Three years ago now,” he says in the barest whisper. The cracks in the bowl deepen and deepen until the whole thing shatters. Nothing remains of the bowl but shards. Blood blooms across his palm, but he doesn’t seem to pay it any mind. 

_ Tui and La. His banishment was as good as a death sentence.  _ Katara thinks back on Zuko’s earlier comment.  _ No— almost worse.  _

“When they sent you to find Aang, everyone thought he was still dead,” Toph says, evidently having reached the same conclusion as Katara.

“That’s the funny part,” Zuko says with a hint of dry mirth. “I wasn’t actually supposed to find the Avatar, and everyone knew it but me.”

“Zuko, that’s not funny,” Sokka says, fixing him with an intense stare. “You know that’s not funny, right?”

“Everyone  _ else _ thinks it’s funny,” he protests.

“Well, it’s not! I mean, I know we were ‘the enemy’ to you or whatever, but normal people don’t  _ torment _ each other like that. You shouldn’t have been sent on that quest, and that general definitely shouldn’t have burned you!”

“Yeah, yeah, I guess,” Zuko says, pausing suddenly. “Wait, what did you say?”

“You shouldn’t have been sent on that quest?” Sokka’s voice is laden with confusion.

“No, no. The other part.”

“That general shouldn’t have burned you.”

Now, Zuko actually does laugh. It’s a small, dry thing, far closer to tears than happiness on the spectrum of emotion. 

“You think the general was the one who gave me this.” The words should land like a question, but they fall heavy from the air like sleet. 

“Didn’t he?” Katara asks. She doesn’t want to think about an alternative. The sick feeling in her chest only tells her that any other answer must be far worse. 

“I challenged the general in my father’s war room. The Fire Lord told me I would have to fight an Agni Kai to pay for my disrespect,” Zuko looks up to confused faces. “That’s, uh, a firebending duel.”

The only sound is the crackling of the campfire. Katara knows without looking that her friends will share similarly anguished expressions. Zuko takes a deep, shuddering breath.

“So, I accepted. I was ready to fight that general. He was old, and I was convinced that I could take him.” Zuko looks down at his hand, noticing for the first time that it has started to bleed. 

“Anyways, I was ready to fight. But, when I turned around, the general wasn’t the one in the duelling space with me. It was my father.”

“ _ Spirits _ , Zuko,” Katara curses. Sokka and Toph follow with much more colorful swears.

“By disrespecting the general in the Fire Lord’s war room, I had disrespected the Fire Lord. I didn’t want to fight him. I couldn’t fight him. I got down on my knees, and refused. I begged him for forgiveness.”

With each and every word from Zuko’s mouth, the flames in the center of the circle grow higher and higher.

“He said to me, ‘You will learn respect, and suffering will be your teacher.’ Then— then he— ” Zuko’s voice is splintering, chipping away from walking the razor-thin line of painful memory. 

He makes the same little gesture towards his face, and the campfire roars with sudden life, only to die just as quickly. That’s all Katara can take. She moves closer towards his side, taking his hands in her own. She uncaps her bending water, healing the small cut in seconds. She feels angry enough to bend blood, if such a thing is possible. Looking up, she sees Toph is embracing him from behind, and Sokka has a hand on his shoulder. They stay there for a few long moments.

“You guys can, uh, let go now,” Zuko says. 

“Not really,” Katara replies.

They stay by the embers of the fire for a while longer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i've been trying to keep myself to a week or less in between updates, but that probably won't be possible in the upcoming weeks, so sorry in advance. this got delayed a bit by a new (very stupid) fic idea that you might get to see at some point.
> 
> as always, i love reading your reactions to the story! leave a comment down below if you have anything to say :)


	6. alongside the water tribe fleet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's time for some family reunions...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm back!!! hope you all enjoy!

Hakoda had been shocked, to say the least, the first time he laid eyes on his son in three years. Even now, he can’t get over Sokka’s solid presence in front of him. His son— a warrior in his own right. A warrior with a _complete soulmark_ , running from wrist to collarbone.

He eyes the flames on Sokka’s shoulder— a mark that had not been seen on Water Tribe skin in over a century— and tries to fight the queasiness rising like a relentless tide inside his chest. Not that long ago, his children lost their mother to fire. Now, _both_ of them will wear it etched into their skin for the rest of their lives. It doesn’t sit quite right with him. He’s not sure if it ever will.

“...and anyways, we came as soon as we could. Wait, are you listening? Dad!” Sokka’s voice breaks through Hakoda’s trance.

“Sorry, son,” he says, clasping Sokka’s shoulder. “Just got lost in thought for a moment there. You were saying?”

“Right!” Sokka’s face lights up, and he continues. “Obviously, we didn’t expect to have to leave Ba Sing Se so soon, but we found you and the fleet, so it all worked out okay.” Sokka pauses, looking toward the giant bison that sits next to the Water Tribe fleet.

“Wait, what am I doing? You have to meet everyone!” Sokka takes Hakoda by the hand, steering him over towards the shore.

“Everyone?” 

“Our soulmates, obviously! I mean, Bato and Gran-Gran met Aang, but you haven’t met _anyone_ yet!”

At the sound of such excitement in his son’s voice, Hakoda tries his best to swallow down his apprehension. Besides, when he spoke to Sokka only a few days prior, he was clueless as to who could have been their final soulmate. How much more could have happened in between their giant battle and subsequent escape?

When they reach the bison, Sokka relinquishes his grip on Hakoda in favor of climbing up into the saddle. 

“Hey, everyone! I have someone for you to meet!” Sokka walks behind Katara, poking her in the back. “Stop your healing for a second. Dad’s here!”

Katara looks up, disoriented, the glow fading from water encasing her hands. Her gaze lands on Hakoda, and her vision clears.

“Dad!” she cries, flying from the bison’s back to wrap him in a hug. 

“Katara!” he calls out.

 _Spirits_ , she’s changed. Like her brother, he left her back in the Southern Water Tribe as a child, and he’s meeting her again as a formidable warrior, a young woman who regularly faces death at the Avatar’s side. _The Avatar!_ Hakoda thinks, still reeling. _How is this my life?_

At last, they separate, and Hakoda catches sight of her soulmark, exactly the same as her brother’s. He pulls them both into a brief hug, not trusting himself to speak. 

“Guys, get over here!” Sokka calls.

A small girl, dressed in Earth Kingdom green slides down from the bison’s back. She walks over to Hakoda on bare feet, extending a hand.

“Toph Beifong,” she declares herself, her head turned just to the left of his own. 

_She really_ is _blind,_ Hakoda thinks, recalling the brief description Sokka had been able to give him before his abrupt departure.

“The greatest earthbender of all time,” he acknowledges, shaking her hand. “I’m Chief Hakoda, but you can just call me Hakoda.”

“Nice to meet you, Hakoda,” she grins. 

Then, Sokka approaches again, this time holding the body of a sleeping boy in his arms. Katara hovers just behind his shoulder, her bending water uncapped. 

“This is Aang,” Sokka says.

“The Avatar.”

“Yeah,” Sokka replies. “The Fire Nation princess shot him with lightning back in Ba Sing Se. Katara saved his life, but he hasn’t woken up just yet. Honestly, if any other waterbender had been with us, I don’t think he would’ve made it.”

“Sokka, I don’t—” Katara tries to interject.

“You know I’m right.”

“Still! You can’t just—”

Hakoda had almost forgotten how much they used to bicker. Still, even as the years have come and gone, and topics have changed, it’s nice to see that some things still remain the same. 

“Hey, Snoozles, get over here!” Toph calls, gesturing at an earthen tent that hadn’t been there a moment before. “Why don’t we let Twinkle Toes sleep in peace?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Sokka grumbles, carrying Aang over to the tent.

“I don’t know much about waterbending, but even I know what an incredible feat that kind of healing is,” Hakoda says, placing his hand on Katara’s shoulder. “I’m very proud.”

“I- thanks. Thank you. ” she says. She’s silent for a moment, then perks up. “Wait here!”

She climbs up the bison one more time, then starts yelling about something in the saddle. Wait, no, some _one_ . Hakoda’s mind starts reeling— he had already met everyone Sokka had described to him. His eyes dart to the red flames visible on Katara’s shoulder. _The last one._

“No, you can’t get out of this! Did you really think we were just going to let you sit on Appa the whole time?”

The person in the saddle says something, too quietly for Hakoda to hear, and then Katara is pulling a boy in Earth Kingdom greens down to the ground. The tension in Hakoda’s chest eases. _Just someone they met on their travels in Ba Sing Se, then._

Katara drags the boy over to Hakoda, seemingly ignorant of how he seems utterly determined to avoid Hakoda’s gaze, instead trying to let his dark hair cover his face. Still, it’s no use, as Katara nudges the boy’s arm, and Hakoda finally makes eye contact. Or, rather, he would have, if he wasn’t so distracted by the giant angry-looking burn scar obscuring the boy’s eye— the one that every sailor and warrior knows belongs to Prince Zuko of the Fire Nation. The very same Prince Zuko who had hunted his only children to the ends of the earth. 

“ _You,_ ” Hakoda says, voice like a steel blade. His hand is on his club before he knows it. _It can’t be him._

———

Zuko, for the record, knew this was an awful idea. As soon as Katara and Sokka told them they would be meeting up with the Water Tribe fleet, he had been bracing himself for a moment like this. The worst part was he knew he deserved it— every veiled and open threat, every cold look that was sure to come his way. Still, it doesn’t quite diminish the hurt he feels when he sees Hakoda reach for his weapon. He understands the implication— Hakoda thinks Zuko will hurt his own soulmates. 

_You_ have _hurt your soulmates,_ he reminds himself. These days, he thinks he’ll spend the rest of his life remembering that fact, turning it over and over in his head. Once again, he feels the urge to _run_. He’s survived as a refugee once, who’s to say he can’t do it again? Zuko might have stood there, frozen, for hours, if not for Katara’s voice.

“Dad! Stop that!”

“Katara! He’s- you said- this is the one who’s been hunting you down!” Hakoda’s eyes dart between Katara and Zuko.

“Katara, maybe I should just-” Zuko tries to cut in.

“You’re staying right where you are!” She fixes him with a fierce look, before turning the same gaze on her father. “Aang and I are only here right now because of Zuko and his uncle. They fought _with_ us against Azula in Ba Sing Se.”

Hakoda looks utterly lost. One hand still rests on his club, but his grip seems to be loosening. Zuko would still rather be hiding in Appa’s saddle.

“So… how do you know he’s not going to turn around and betray you?”

The question makes Zuko want to be sick, even though he knows he deserves it.

“Zuko wouldn’t—”

“I want to hear it from him.”

“I…” _How do I say this?_ “I’m their soulmate.” Zuko pushes up his sleeve, revealing the beginnings of a soulmark that perfectly matches Katara’s. Hakoda’s eyes widen ever so slightly.

“I didn’t know that until about two days ago,” he continues. “Not that that excuses what I’ve done! But hurting them… it’s unthinkable to me now. I’m deeply sorry for the sorrow that I have caused them, and to your people, and I can only hope to make it right by working with you all.”

He looks up, meeting Hakoda’s eyes. The man has let go of his club, and seems to be warring with himself. At last, Hakoda breaks the silence.

“I’m not going to pretend that I trust you, or that I’m over what you did to my children,” he says. Internally, Zuko braces for the worst.

“However… I’m willing to try. For Katara. For Sokka.”

_Wait, what?_

“You won’t regret it!” Katara cries, pulling her father into a hug.

Zuko watches them embrace, still feeling as if any moment, Hakoda may change his mind.

_I hope they won’t regret it, too._

———

Azula kneels in front of a wall of flame. Gone is the silly Kyoshi warrior garb— Azula once more wears the robes of Fire Nation royalty. Normally, she would be elated to deliver news of another military conquest _and_ the Avatar’s death. However, the story she must deliver today gives her pause. 

She can’t get the image of Zuko escaping with the waterbender and Avatar out of her head. He betrayed her, and still got away. She _let_ him escape. The blame for this mistake rests squarely on her shoulders, she knows with certainty.

“Speak, Azula,” commands Ozai, obscured on his throne.

“The Fire Nation has triumphed. I was able to infiltrate the Earth King’s palace, and Ba Sing Se now lies under our control. While disguised, we heard word of a secret plan. The Avatar’s companions and the Earth Kingdom intend to attack the Fire Nation on the Day of Black Sun.”

“This is truly an important victory, then,” Ozai says. Azula’s heart skips a beat. “And the Avatar?”

“I fought the Avatar and the waterbending savage in the crystal caverns beneath the Earth King’s palace.” Azula swallows. _How best to put this?_

“Just as I was about to deliver the final blow, Zuko, the traitor, arrived. He has truly left his nation behind—he fought _with_ the Avatar.”

Azula flicks her eyes upward, trying to catch a glimpse of her father’s face from behind the wall of flame. His expression is perfectly guarded. _Like father, like daughter._

“Even so, I gained ground easily. The Avatar knew they were no match for me. He began to levitate, glowing, and in some kind of trance. Before he could attempt his surprise attack, I shot him down with a bolt of lightning— more than enough to kill.”

Azula sees the Avatar fall in front of her again in slow motion, the light fading from his arrow tattoos. He must have died. He _had_ to have died. She knows the waterbender has the ability to heal, but surely no one could undo the level of damage she had done. And yet, she didn’t get to see the body… 

“As I was about to eliminate the others, the second traitor, Iroh, appeared. Though the pacifist fool is old, he was able to produce a wall of fire, enough to disorient my forces. The waterbender was able to escape, along with Zuko and the Avatar’s corpse. Iroh, as you know, I took prisoner.”

She bows her head even deeper, as the silence stretches on longer and longer. 

“I am disappointed, Azula,” Ozai’s voice ruptures the tension in the air. “It is not like you to tolerate such treachery. I would normally expect news like this to be accompanied with two bodies, not just one.”

 _Disappointed? Disappointed?_ The word rattles around Azula’s head, worming its way into each crevice, every thought in her mind. Bile rises in her throat, and the barest whispers of smoke lift from her fingers. Her mouth tastes like lightning.

“Fire Lord, I swear I will preserve our family’s honor, our nation’s honor. With your blessing, I will hunt down this traitor. He will not know mercy, as he has chosen to deny the Fire Nation’s greatness for the last time.”

Ozai leans back ever so slightly in his throne, stroking his chin. The wall of flames in front of him remains perfectly steady as he considers condoning fratricide. 

“Very well, Azula,” Ozai says at last. “You will ensure that the traitor is brought to justice. See to it that you do not fail again.”

First disappointment, now _failure._ Azula notices the smoke emanating from her fingers at last. _Agni_ , she hasn’t lost control like this since she was a _child_.

“I will leave at once, Father,” she says. “The issue will be dealt with with the utmost efficiency.”

She rises, giving the traditional bow, and stalks out of the hall. Really, that went almost as well as she had expected. If Zuko had just taken her offer, she would’ve been preparing for a feast to rival all others. Idiot. Instead, she’s on her way to pack for yet another bounty-hunting voyage. 

_Two birds with one stone,_ she thinks to herself. _Kill Zuko, and kill the Avatar again, if necessary._

“Prepare my ship!” she shouts at the nearest guard. “We leave before the sun sets!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i am so so so sorry about that hiatus! i really did mean to have this chapter up earlier, but life kept getting in the way. on the bright side, i have a much better idea of where i want to take this story, and it's gonna be a lot longer than i had originally planned! thank you guys for sticking with me!
> 
> as always, i love reading and responding to what you have to say--if you have any comments, reactions, or questions, leave them down below!


	7. sailing with the fire navy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Separated by an ocean, new versions of old journeys begin...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> welcome (officially) to book three!!!

Mai does a lot of thinking, which really shouldn’t come as a surprise to anyone. When everything is mind-numbingly boring, you tend to spend a lot of time alone with your thoughts. The only time she can possibly lose herself is in each split second before the release of a knife, in the utter chaos and strange order of a battle. Outside of that, Mai stares, sighs, and thinks.

As she waits outside the ornate doors of the Fire Lord’s throne room, Mai is prepared to return to an existence of unending boredom. Ty Lee walks on her hands, her voice full of its usual bubbly cheer.

“Mai! Before I go back to the circus, I was thinking I’d stick around Caldera for a while. We can go shopping, maybe get some dumplings at that one place…”

Mai’s life is lived in the moments between each impossible leap, in the seconds and ages in between each improbable throw. She only wishes she could do the inverse.

“...my ship! We leave before the sun sets!” Azula’s voice rings out, as the gilded doors fly open with a furious push. Ty Lee falls from her handstand with a look of shock on her face.

“Girls, our mission has been extended,” Azula says. She smells like...smoke? Mai and Ty Lee exchange a glance.

“Extended?” Ty Lee asks.

“Zuko, regrettably, got away. To preserve the Fire Nation’s honor, he must be collected.” Azula says the words with her usual intonation, holds her body with the same regal poise, but there’s something akin to anger (or is it fear?) in her eyes.

_Collected… like a stray dog, like a piece of wayward garbage._

Mai remembers seeing that same look in Zuko’s eyes, day after day of their childhood. She does not want to reflect on what it means to see that look in Azula’s eyes now. She can’t consider what it means for Zuko.

“You two can return to the ship. I have something I need to see to here before I leave.” With that, Azula stalks off, leaving Mai and Ty Lee with as little choice in the matter as they had the first time she came around.

Uncharacteristically, Ty Lee is silent as the girls take a palanquin ride back to the docks, to their ship, which is being rapidly reloaded. They stand side by side on the upper deck, watching as the sun slowly makes its way toward the horizon. They stay there, silent, until Azula marches on deck, muttering about old men, fools, lightning, and tea.

Azula gives the signal for the captain to depart, and she performs kata after kata, shooting huge, raging balls of fire at the setting sun. Her firebending forms are as precise as usual, but pieces of hair slip free from her topknot as she whirls into more aggressive katas. Azula makes no moves to fix her appearance— instead moving into more and more advanced sets, as though she is trying to let everyone present know that she doesn’t need the sun to do so. Her icy blue flames cast a ghostly glare over the deck, azure light falling over the railing where Ty Lee and Mai still stand.

“Are you ready? For all of this?” Ty Lee asks, bouncing with nervous energy. Mai knows her friend has seen the subtle change in Azula, has guessed at the repercussions it will most likely entail. The two of them are probably the only people in the world who know the weaknesses and tells of the most dangerous girl in the world.

Mai thinks about the adrenaline rush of flying steel. Mai thinks about Zuko’s golden eyes, one already permanently narrowed. Mai thinks about not thinking at all. 

“Well, it won’t be boring,” she says.

Ty Lee leans against her shoulder ever-so slightly.

“No,” she agrees. “It won’t.”

———

Aang wakes up aching. Blinking, he sits up, only to feel sharp pain in his chest. He pauses, taking stock of the situation. His torso is covered in bandages, but his limbs seem intact. A flood of images races through his mind: the Guru, Katara in chains, a crystal cavern, red flames against blue, and the white-hot crackle of electricity.

He raises his hand to check for head injuries, only to be met with...hair?

_Spirits, how long was I asleep?_

The room is empty, although it does remind him of the one he was in on Zuko’s ship, what with the red flags and— 

_Fire Nation!_

Just like that, taking stock of the situation has moved to last place on Aang’s list of priorities. Right now, the only thing on his mind is _ESCAPE_. He repeats the word like a mantra as he whirls through the halls of the metal ship, smacking soldiers aside as they try to reach him. He thanks prior experience for the way his feet make their way to the upper deck without any mental effort. With a gust of wind, he’s sailing through the heavy metal door. 

_Two soldiers. Okay._

Aang winces, as another jolt of pain shoots through his torso. There’s something not quite right about them, but he can’t afford to stop and check. Just as he’s about to send another gust of wind their way, a small winged creature flies into his line of sight.

_Momo?_

“Wait, that feels like Twinkle Toes!” A voice rings out from the other side of the deck.

“Aang! You’re awake!” All of a sudden, Katara, swimming in a dark cloak, is embracing him. A punch, more gentle than usual, is aimed at his shoulder. _Toph._

“I think I’m dreaming. Am I dreaming?” Aang asks Katara’s shoulder, his words muffled in her cape. Aang has well and truly lost his inertia, all of the air in his lungs scooped out by a passing breeze.

Another soldier rushes up to embrace him, armor clanking. Aang looks under the helmet to see— _Sokka?_

“We missed you, buddy! It’s been a long few weeks!” Sokka says.

 _Weeks?_ Aang feels unsteady on his feet.

Behind Sokka is another figure in Fire Nation armor. Aang makes eye contact, and is met with the sight of a _very_ familiar scar. _Zuko. It was all real._

Aang hasn’t just lost his inertia, he’s moving in reverse. His overworked brain almost sighs in relief as the world starts to fade at the edges, and his body makes contact with the hot metal of the deck. He hears concerned shouts, curses, then nothing at all.

— 

A long (or short?) while later, Aang opens his eyes once more. He’s in the same metal room as before, and he takes deep, shuddering breaths, forcing himself not to panic at the sight of the red wall hangings. A hand wraps around his shoulder, its weight grounding him. _Katara._

“Hey there,” she says, hiding tears behind a wobbly smile.

“What...what happened? I remember the lightning, then nothing…” he says, trying to sit up. “Where are we? Where are we going?”

“Hey, you still need to rest,” Katara says, gently pushing him back down. “Right now, we’re on a captured Fire Nation ship with some of the invasion crew. It’s all part of Sokka’s invasion plan.”

“And in Ba Sing Se?” Aang asks. He still can’t believe he lost weeks of time. _Weeks. It’s just like in the iceberg,_ a small voice inside him says. _One day, you’ll wake up, and you’ll have lost years. They’ll all be gone. Again._

“After, um, your injury, Zuko’s uncle came in. He made this enormous wall of flames, which gave me enough time to bend you, me and Zuko out of there. He— he told us to leave him behind.” Katara pauses, staring at the wall for a moment. 

“We met back up with Sokka and Toph then, and I healed you with the water from the Spirit Oasis. We rendezvoused with the Water Tribe fleet a few days later.”

“So, Zuko’s here? Still?” This is the part of the story that Aang has the hardest time believing, and yet, it’s the part he most wants to be true. “I really saw him, right?”

“Yeah,” Katara says, her smile less wobbly now. “He’s a part of the team now.”

“And… no one’s been mean to him, right? Because he did the right thing back there, and I think—”

“Sokka and Toph talked to him, and they worked things out. My dad was… shocked, to say the least when they first met, but they’re okay now. Zuko—” Katara cuts herself off.

“What?” Aang presses.

“He— he’s lived a harder life than any of us imagined. It’s impressive that his soulmark became realized at all, really.”

Aang’s heart breaks, in dozens of little ways he hadn’t previously imagined possible. He looks up, the question clearly written on his face. Katara shakes her head.

“It’s not my place to share. I’ll let Zuko tell you himself, when he’s ready.”

Aang nods, another bolt of pain shooting through him. Katara uncaps her bending water, having noticed his little wince.

“Spirits, what was I thinking? Let me heal you, and then we can go up and say hi to everyone— for real, this time.”

One healing session later, Aang and Katara find themselves back on the main deck. Toph and Sokka recline in what meagre shade there is to be found, while Zuko lies back in the full sun. Toph, of course, notices them first.

“He’s awake again!” The three perk up, helping Katara ease Aang to the floor.

“Hey, buddy, sorry for making you faint earlier,” Sokka says, ducking his head. Zuko turns his intense golden gaze to Aang.

“Yeah, uh, my bad.”

It’s the most awkward apology he’s ever heard. Aang just shakes his head at the two of them, smiling, before wrapping Zuko in a hug.

“Hey! You, uh—” he sputters. Aang just laughs again. Zuko mutters something along the lines of “ _must’ve told him,_ ” under his breath, but Aang can’t be bothered to think about it now. He pulls back, looking at the little circle facing him. 

_I’m not alone,_ he reminds himself. _I’m here, in the present, and I’m not alone._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello again! i'm sorry that i've been updating so inconsistently. school has been really sucking up all my free time at the moment. unfortunately, my schedule will probably be like this until i move back home for break--after that, i'll have a lot more free time (as in: any at all), and i'll hopefully be able to finish the story this winter. when i started this project, i only really intended to take the story through the end of book 2, and now i'm planning on writing a full canon divergence book 3...(why do i make things so hard for myself??). thank you to everyone who's subscribed to this work for bearing with me while i figure out my first big fanfic project! 
> 
> side note: i'm currently working on another fic, which i want to upload when it's fully completed. it's...a little different from this one, but still interesting! the goal is to have it completed for upload at the same time as the last chapter of painted through a dream, which is making things a little complicated. VERY excited to share it with you all, though!
> 
> anyways...your reactions, questions, and comments are what keep me motivated to write this, so don't be shy! i love hearing from all of you!


	8. crescent island and beyond

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Iroh is good at observation. Zuko is bad with emotions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> did i need to turn the awakening into two chapters? probably not! 
> 
> did i? you bet!

Iroh hadn’t really been surprised to receive a visit from his niece. Throughout their journey back to the Fire Nation, Azula had stopped by periodically to gloat— alternating between mocking his imprisoned state, and making snide comments about having wasted his favor on the wrong sibling. 

“Look how far the Dragon of the West has fallen… the only thing that would make this little picture any better would be my traitorous brother, in a cell by your side.”

Iroh could bear the jabs about his weakness, his loss of title and status, but the comments about Zuko hurt the worst. 

He had been proud—agonizingly, ridiculously proud— when he had realized what Zuko intended to do back in the caves of Ba Sing Se. Averse to introspection as he was, Zuko had finally proven himself worthy of a remarkable destiny, and remarkable companions. 

When Iroh had realized he was to be held in the capital city, he began to understand Ozai’s plan for him. It would have made more sense to lock a firebender like Iroh away somewhere where he could be contained, like the Boiling Rock. Iroh’s proximity is a political matter, not a logistical one.  _ I’ll be used to send a message,  _ he thought.

So, when Azula strode into his new cell, only hours after their arrival on land, Iroh was sure that she was coming to gloat one final time, as she delivered the news of his sentence.  _ Probably something public,  _ he imagined.

Instead, he was met with Azula, her usual collected disposition replaced with one of mild frenzy. When questions about Zuko’s whereabouts started to slip in between the usual insults, he began to grow worried. After Azula left the cell, fuming, with no sentence delivered, he understood Ozai’s intentions. Iroh and Zuko’s destinies were tied together. The Fire Lord meant to punish the Fire Nation’s most prominent traitors together, to send the ultimate message to any who may dare to dissent.

Iroh would live as long as Azula was in pursuit of Zuko. 

So now, days later, Iroh understands what must be done. He trains in secret, hides his wisdom and growing strength under perceived foolishness. With Azula on his tail, shaken and desperate as she is, Iroh knows that Zuko may well soon meet a battle he won’t be able to walk away from. When he thinks of Azula now, Iroh is reminded of a 13 year old Zuko, lashing out at the world, running ceaselessly after an unwinnable prize— not unlike an eel-hound, willing to run until its heart explodes. He sees the resemblance between the two not only in their inheritance of Ursa’s looks, but in their inspiring, relentless, terrifying drive. 

His nephew is done being Ozai’s eel-hound. He doesn’t think he can say the same for his niece. 

———

Zuko is, for the lack of a better word, perplexed by the Avatar’s behavior. The airbender has taken to hanging by his side, inviting him to play games, pushing him to  _ participate _ and  _ engage _ with the group. Aang even sits next to him as they run through the modified invasion plan with Chief Hakoda.

“Right, so the plan is to invade on the Day of Black Sun— that way the firebenders will be powerless. If we get to the palace during the eclipse, Aang will have the best possible chance when he faces the Fire Lord,” Sokka says.

“The royal family has multiple protocols for the eclipse. Ever since the war started, the Fire Nation has been really vigilant about any potential weaknesses,” Zuko adds. 

“And that, ladies and gentlemen, is why Prince Jerkbender here is our secret weapon!” Sokka beams, pulling Zuko into a side hug.

“Uh, yeah, so,” Zuko sputters. “The Fire Lord won’t be in the throne room at the moment of the eclipse. Neither will Azula. There are old caves beneath the palace, places where there used to be magma years ago. Now, those caves are used as bunkers for the royal family. There are two that are still usable— that’s where Azula and the Fire Lord will be.”

“See? Secret weapon!” Sokka says, somehow making the side hug even tighter. 

Really, Zuko’s having a hard time understanding  _ everyone’s  _ behavior. 

He figures that Katara must have told Aang about him.  _ All _ about him. Zuko doesn’t know how else to explain the boy’s easy acceptance, his simple joy at having him around. It’s the only theory that makes sense.

Katara tolerates him because he kept a promise. Sokka and Toph tolerate him because of Katara’s word and confirmation of his story. Hakoda tolerates him because of his children. Aang… well, Aang must be doing whatever he’s doing out of pity. Pity means Katara had told Aang about Zuko, the scar, everything. It’s the only theory that makes sense. 

He hasn’t earned…whatever this is. Not their forgiveness. Not yet. Maybe he never will.  _ People don’t just do things for nothing. _

This is Zuko’s reality. After all, he had spent most of his life in court, stumbling through the steps of an intricately arranged social dance that he could never seem to get right. ( _ Plenty of scars to prove that. _ ) Then, he was exiled, friendless, and so, so angry; floating on a pile of metal in the middle of nowhere. Rage stoked his internal flame into a cruel thing, eating away at his spirit— roasting him just to the brittle side of hardened.

And now he’s here, and he can’t quite work out the pattern of the effortless tango his soulmates glide through. Zuko waits, perpetually, for the other shoe to drop—to be caught in some slick trap of wordplay, violate some unknown social norm— and be sent away once more. 

_ Uncle didn’t ask for anything when he covered for you in Ba Sing Se,  _ a small voice inside him says. 

_ Shut it, _ Zuko tells the voice. He’s not in the mood to think about Uncle right now. He’s not in the mood to think about Uncle  _ ever _ . Not anymore.

“...and anyways, we have one more advantage,” Sokka says, breaking through Zuko’s reverie. “Aang, the Fire Nation thinks you’re dead!”

“What?” At Zuko’s side, Aang tenses up. “How is that an advantage? I’m— I’m not—”

“Buddy, this is a  _ good _ thing,” Sokka says, turning to face him head-on. “This means they won’t be hunting for the Avatar!”

“But I’m  _ not dead! _ If I’m dead...then I failed. I  _ failed _ at Ba Sing Se! You don’t get it— I can’t— I’m not!”

“Aang, listen—” Sokka starts, only to find himself speaking to a column of air where Aang had once been. 

Rushing out on the deck, Zuko and Sokka find themselves gazing at an orange figure, high up in the air, drawing closer and closer to a horizon that is quickly becoming obscured by dark clouds. In almost perfect unison, they curse.

“ _ Spirits _ .”

— 

Katara, it seems, feels similarly, a fact that quickly becomes apparent as they load supplies onto Appa. 

“I can’t  _ believe _ he would just run away like that! Does he not know how dangerous it is? And  _ just  _ after we got the Fire Nation off our backs, too! Leaving his soulmates, his  _ family  _ behind! He’s… so… so  _ selfish _ !”

With this, Katara breaks out into small sobs, and Zuko begins to realise that the formidable waterbender is not quite as infallible as she had once seemed from afar. Sokka wraps his sister in a hug, and Toph gives her shoulder a lighter-than usual punch. Zuko, for his part, stays still, trying to take up as little space as possible. He’s aware, painfully so, that his own flesh and blood is responsible for the pain the group is currently feeling.

_ Should I…  _ he thinks, then cuts himself off. After all, it’s far, far easier to continue loading supplies on the bison than to face Katara’s tears. It’s far easier to sit quietly in Appa’s saddle as they chase the horizon at a breakneck pace, watching as Fire Nation waters draw closer and closer. It’s far easier to silently wait as Katara and Sokka talk Aang back to earth than it is to think about what he  _ should _ ,  _ shouldn’t _ , is  _ allowed _ to do.

Still, as Aang flies them all away from Crescent Island, gliderless and decidedly more subdued, Zuko starts thinking about learning to dance.

( _ One-two-three, one-two-three. _ )

As the others sleep at the back of the saddle, Zuko makes his way to the front, just a foot away from where Aang rests, holding Appa’s reins. The young airbender has his gaze fixed firmly on the horizon. Although travelling in their small group seems to be the far better option for him, it’s clear that he’s still shaken by the world he’s woken up into. 

Absentmindedly, Zuko’s thoughts stray to the days after that fateful Agni Kai— the morning where he had first regained consciousness, believing that the events of the duel had merely been a particularly cruel trick of his subconscious. 

_ Uncle’s face leaning over him as the room rocks from side to side. It’s dark, and he can’t feel the sun. Soft-spoken words that seem to sever his very heartstrings. Broken mirrors, bloody fists. Loyalty. Exile.  _

_ And suffering will be your teacher…  _

He can’t help but hope this was a kinder sort of awakening.

Zuko sits, and notices Aang glance at him out of the corner of his good eye. He reclines, ever-so-slightly, using his breath of fire to warm up the air around him. 

( _ Five, six, seven, eight. _ )

“You know, I’m ‘dead’ too,” Zuko says, complete with air quotes. This  _ actually  _ gets Aang’s attention.

“What?”

“In the eyes of Fire Nation society, the honorless are essentially dead. Plus, I committed treason, so, like, they  _ really  _ want me dead now.”

“Zuko, that’s—”

“I’ve also been presumed dead before, but I did kinda use that for a tactical advantage.” Zuko looks to the other boy, a sheepish look on his face. “You know, when I snuck into the North Pole? I’m not trying to lecture you, though!”

Zuko throws up his hands, obviously flustered, as if trying to stop Aang from speaking. Aang, for his part, looks on, mostly confused, but with traces of amusement showing at the corners of his mouth. 

“I guess I just wanted to say, I could only do that because I was used to it. People acting like I’m dead, I mean. It’s a shock to the system, at first. I should have remembered,” Zuko carries on, oblivious to the concern replacing simple melancholy in Aang’s eyes.

“ _ Zuko _ …” 

( _ One-two-three, one—  _ )

_ Stupid! Too much,  _ Zuko internally curses.

“ _ Agni _ , this is why I don’t— I just mean that, you know, I understand. How you feel. Yeah.” 

He can’t meet Aang’s eyes. Just as he’s about to let out another burst of heat, he finds he doesn’t need to, as wiry airbender arms wrap themselves around his shoulders.

_ Oh.  _

“ _ Thank you _ ,” Aang says. “I knew I was right to be happy you came along!”

“Oh,” Zuko says, his head suddenly empty. “Uh, you’re welcome? Thanks?”

Aang laughs, then, and the sound rings out through the darkness, taunting the shadowy waves below. 

_ Just like music, _ Zuko thinks. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello everyone!! i hope you're all doing well, and i hope this maybe provided some election stress relief! i made a new [tumblr](https://somethingyouwrote.tumblr.com/) if you guys want to chat! we're getting closer and closer to some super canon divergence in this story...
> 
> as always, please leave a comment below if you have anything to say! i love reading and responding to all your thoughts about this story-- you guys are my biggest motivation!


	9. village by village

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Flameo! We’re arriving, my good hotman!” Aang says, complete with an elbow to Zuko’s shoulder.
> 
> “Aang, no one says that anymore.”
> 
> “There is great honor to be found in respecting the old ways,” Aang says, complete with a deep bow in Zuko’s direction.
> 
> “No one has said ‘hotman’ or ‘flameo’ in decades!” Zuko sputters. “You’re going to get us caught!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry i've been gone...have a little gaang bonding as a treat! major thanks to my amazing beta for reading this a million times for me (if only she would let me tag her....)!

“Flameo! We’re arriving, my good hotman!” Aang says, complete with an elbow to Zuko’s shoulder.

“Aang, no one says that anymore.”

“There is great honor to be found in respecting the old ways,” Aang says, complete with a deep bow in Zuko’s direction.

“No one has said ‘hotman’ or ‘flameo’ in  _ decades _ !” Zuko sputters. “You’re going to get us  _ caught _ !”

“I don’t know about this, Aang…” Katara trails off.

“It’s retro! Besides, my good friend Kuzon tells me it’s  _ all  _ the rage in the colonies.”

Sokka’s hand meets his forehead. Zuko grimaces.

“Do I even want to know who Kuzon is?”

“Well, he was my Fire Nation friend 100 years ago. But right now, you’re looking at him!” Aang bows again. “Hotman.”

Zuko is seriously starting to wonder how this group was planning to survive in the Fire Nation without him. When it comes time for them to pick out new disguises, he realizes that there  _ was no plan _ . Sokka, for all his tactical genius, had apparently thought it best to just waltz into the country and make up their undercover identities as they went along.

_ Agni, it’s a good thing I switched sides when I did. _

“Sokka! Katara! You two look—uh. You need sleeves!”

Sure enough, they did, as their new Fire Nation outfits left little of their soulmarks to the imagination.

“What do I need sleeves for? It’s hot as hell here!” Sokka replied, fanning himself.

“How common do you think Water Tribe boomerangs are as soulmarks around here?” Zuko asks, with a pointed glare at their forearms. 

Sokka and Katara’s faces light up with sudden understanding, noticing how Zuko’s red robes cover his entire mark.

“We’ll, uh, go get those sleeves now.”

Luckily, the rest of their shopping trip passes fairly uneventfully. (And if Zuko uses his portion of the accessory budget to buy a replica Blue Spirit mask, that’s no one’s business.)

The trip is uneventful, that is, until Aang just  _ disappears _ . The group searches for hours, as covertly as they possibly can, to no avail. As the hours wear on and they retreat to their hideout, Zuko finds himself growing downright  _ furious _ .

_ What does he think he’s doing, just wandering off like that? It’s like he doesn’t even think before he acts! _

Zuko is distantly reminded of a certain underwater ice tunnel. And a certain underground lair. And a certain brawl in a tea shop… _ but all of those times were different, okay? _

Remnants of his old anger at not being able to capture the Avatar feed his present frustration about not being able to capture— _ no, find _ —Aang. It seems locating the Avatar will never be one of his skills.

_ Really, though, how did I never catch them?  _ Zuko thinks, his internal voice dripping with sarcasm.  _ They can’t even keep track of the Avatar themselves! _

More often than not, he feels like an outsider looking in on the group— his breaths fogging up the invisible barrier that separates him from their friendship. As he watches his soulmates panic, he feels…detached, in a painful way that reminds him how much he resents the feeling. On occasions like these, it’s all too easy to agonize over his old place in this dynamic— _ he _ used to be responsible for causing them this kind of pain.

Zuko leans back against the wall of their cave hideout, nursing his concern and guilt in silence. He sits there for what feels like an eternity, until he’s shaken out of his thoughts by a commotion at the cave entrance. Rising from his position on the floor, he’s met with the sight of Aang, rubbing his head sheepishly.

“Aang, you’re back!” Katara yells, wrapping him in a hug. Sokka embraces Aang’s other side.

“Where were you, Twinkletoes? We’ve been looking all day!” Toph follows suit with a punch to Aang’s arm.

“Uh, I was at school! See, I kinda accidentally stole a school uniform instead of normal clothes, and then someone in town kinda grabbed me and made me go, so then I just—” 

“School?” Zuko asks, in lieu of a greeting.

“Yeah! There’s a school just outside of town!”

“And you… just went along with all of it?” Sokka asks, rubbing his head as if trying to stave off an impending headache.

“Yeah, pretty much!” Aang says, sounding as happy as anything. “But anyways, tomorrow they said we were going to be learning—” 

“What do you mean, ‘tomorrow’?” Sokka cuts in, incredulous. “You’re not going  _ back _ to school! Did you forget we’re in enemy territory?”

_ Kind of feels like you  _ all _ forgot that we’re in enemy territory, _ Zuko thinks. He says nothing. 

(Okay, maybe he mumbles a little.)

“I agree with Prince Emo over there,” Toph says. “No way are you going back!”

“You guys didn’t let me finish!” Aang says. “The teacher mentioned something about a secret river going under the Fire Lord’s palace! Too bad we’ll never know about it in time for the invasion…”

Zuko snorts. 

“What?” Aang asks.

“Aang,” Zuko says. “I want you to look at me for a second and think about where I grew up.”

“Oh, monkeyfeathers.”

“Besides, you already  _ know _ what’s under the Fire Lord’s palace!” Zuko fixes Aang with an exasperated glare. “Secret bunkers, tons of magma…I  _ know _ Sokka and I briefed you on this! Where would the secret river even go? Caldera City is literally built in a volcano…”

“I guess you’re right,” Aang laughs. “Still, it could be an interesting learning experience? Maybe? Oh, nevermind.”

———

The  _ Bolt _ has been meandering along the coast of the Earth Kingdom for the last week. At each small village, colony, and city, Azula finds a new person to bend to her will— leaving a string of lookouts and spies in her wake. She sends Mai and Ty Lee to put up posters of Zuko’s new soulmark in each town square. At this point, she’d be surprised if there’s an Earth Kingdom citizen who doesn’t recognize the design. Azula’s plans are systematic, indestructible.

_ Zuko has no  _ idea _ what he’s unleashed,  _ she thinks to herself.  _ If he so much as steps foot anywhere on this coast, I’ll know in a matter of hours.  _

She can’t tell Mai and Ty Lee ( _ Why would I ever? _ ), but she’s started seeing Zuko in her dreams. Every night she fights an Agni Kai against her banished brother. Sometimes, at the end of it all, he lies twitching beneath her, little flashes of lightning coursing through him as the life drains out of his eyes. Other nights, he holds her jaw steady as a handful of flame gets closer, closer, closer— 

Azula knows what she’s capable of— knows which ending is far more plausible. (She  _ doesn’t _ know which ending is more horrifying.) 

She might be tempted to call the dreams omens, but she isn’t foolish like her uncle. Azula doesn’t believe in spirit stories; just the heat of blue flame, the weight of her words, the power in her fists. 

Regardless, with each passing day Azula tightens the invisible noose around Zuko’s neck— cutting off all possible escape routes and channels of support.

_ They’ll need to head to the Fire Nation soon to carry out their little invasion plan. No matter. Soon, there won’t be a safe place left for them to hide in.  _

“Azula! We just finished up with this one!” Azula grimaces, turning to face Ty Lee.

“How many informants?”

“Five, in this port. Two each in the surrounding villages.” Ty Lee beams, and something in Azula almost yearns to share in her exuberance. Almost.

“Perfect. Let the captain know to move on to the next port.”

_ It’s all falling into place. Father will be so proud. _

———

Katara  _ knows _ that people call her naive and preachy, all right? Low-hanging fruit on the insult tree. She’s over it. 

What she’s  _ not  _ over, however, is the condition these poor villagers are in. She’s seen the farthest corners of the world in these last few months, but this little fishing village in the Fire Nation might just be the most desolate place they’ve visited yet. 

Just acknowledging the sympathy she feels now might have been impossible for her a year prior. It’s all too easy to let one’s worldview slide into black and white— a land where everything is just good or evil. With every mile they travel, Katara feels her eyes opening wide to new hues of understanding. Fire Nation citizens are still just… people, and far be it from Katara to turn away from someone in need. 

So, when she awoke to see the villagers believing that a spirit, the Painted Lady, had been responsible for the food she had passed out in the middle of the night, she had been struck with inspiration. They had just given her the perfect cover story.

The next night, Katara dons her improvised Painted Lady disguise and makes her way to the village, using her waterbending to pull clouds of mist around her. She darts from house to house, healing the sleeping villagers she finds inside. Katara knows the risks of using her waterbending to help these people. After all, they are still Fire Nation, and she can’t imagine they would take the shock of finding a waterbender in their homes well. Still, she dedicates hours to her task, not willing to return to their campsite until she’s visited each and every hut in the village. 

Katara feels drained, tired in the satisfying way that follows a good workout. She’s so tired, in fact, that she doesn’t notice when she walks squarely into someone on her way to the campsite.

“Oof,” the figure says. They’re dressed in all black, and stumbling. They stand, and golden eyes meet blue.

“Zuko?” Katara asks.

“Katara?” comes the raspy reply. “What are you doing?”

She looks down at herself, realizing she hasn’t yet changed out of her Painted Lady disguise.  _ Spirits, how am I going to explain this one? _

“I was, uh,” she trails off, trying to think of a way out of this conversation. “Hey, I could ask you the same thing!”

“Well, I asked first!”

_ Shoot.  _ Evasion isn’t working, and Katara knows lying isn’t exactly in her repertoire of skills.  _ Might as well just tell him. _

“I was down in the village,” she says with a sigh. “When I left food out for them earlier, they thought it was this spirit, the Painted Lady. So I figured I had an in to heal the villagers tonight.”

“Wow,” Zuko says. “That’s—”

“I know it was irresponsible but I couldn’t just do nothing! I had to help!” Katara takes a breath, cooling down somewhat. “Please, just don’t tell Sokka. He’d literally kill me for not thinking things through if he knew I was doing this.”

“Katara, I was going to say that it was really kind of you to do that.”

“You— what? Thank you?” Katara says, stopping abruptly when she realizes that Zuko isn’t going to chastise her. “Wait, what are  _ you  _ doing out here?”

“Oh!” he says, bouncing slightly on his heels. “I was, uh, gonna go and blow up the factory.”

_ Wait, what? _ Katara thinks, and says as much out loud.

“Yeah, well, I figured that since the factory was causing all their problems, if I just sabotaged it a bit, everything would work out fine.”

Katara’s mind races. She knows that what she’s done to help, as important as it was, would only be a temporary solution to the village’s problems.  _ But taking care of the factory… _

“Alright,” she says, almost surprising herself. “Let’s do it. What’s your plan?”

“My...plan?” Zuko replies, sounding shocked himself.

“Yeah, how were you planning on taking this place down?”

“Uh, the plan was to put this on,” Zuko says, holding up a blue theater mask. “And then break in and blow the place up.”

_ Tui and La, he really didn’t think this through _ , Katara thinks. Still, she knows she isn’t really in a place to judge right now.

Zuko dons the mask, and Katara is struck with a sense of deja vu. For a moment, she can’t place it.

“Wait, that looks like the spirit mask from all those wanted posters!” she says.

“Yeah,” Zuko says, hesitating slightly. “The Blue Spirit. Just like on the wanted posters.”

“Now we’re both spirits,” she says with a smile.

“Guess so,” Zuko says, still seeming wary of something. Whatever it is, he shakes it off a moment later.

“Ready?” he asks.

“Let’s do it,” Katara says, cracking her knuckles.

Under the starry sky, two small figures approach a towering metal monstrosity. The figures exchange nods, and move to create chaos with feather-light footsteps. In perfect tandem, they shatter the night’s tranquility, until the air is full of the sounds of crunching metal, explosive booms, and ear-piercing alarms.

——

Sokka, Toph, and Aang had  _ not _ been pleased when Katara and Zuko woke them in the middle of the night, telling them they needed to flee the village. They had been even less pleased when it became apparent that they needed to fight a battle to save the same village they needed to flee.

However, one spirit encounter and several hours of flying later, all is forgiven. The group sits facing a campfire, collapsed against each other in utter exhaustion. Even Zuko, as shy as he usually is, sits inches away from Aang, playing with the fire as he hums a tune under his breath.

“Zuko,  _ what _ are you humming?” Toph asks, not even bothering to raise her head.

The song abruptly stops.

“Nothing. I mean, uh, I wasn’t humming,” he says, blushing. Toph looks up.

“I don’t even  _ need _ my earthbending to tell that was a lie.”

Zuko mumbles something unintelligible. 

“I’m sorry, Jerkbender, what was that?” Sokka asks.

“It’s stupid. Just forget it.” 

“No, I don’t think so. What was it?”

“ _ It’stheBlueSpirittheme. _ ”

“The what?”

“The Blue Spirit theme! You know, from Love Amongst the Dragons?” Zuko looks around for a hint of recognition. Finding none, save a small smile from Katara, he becomes visibly frustrated. 

“Don’t know why I’d ask, it’s only the greatest play of all time! I mean, the storyline, the staging, the pacing… it’s even somewhat enjoyable when the  _ Agni-damned _ Ember Island Players butcher it!”

“Tui and La,” Sokka says with wonder. “Zuko is a  _ theater kid _ .”

“I am not a theater kid!”

“Lie!” Toph sings out.

“Well then, if you’re not a theater kid, it won’t bother you when I say that the Blue Spirit is a stupid character and that they should get The Boulder to play him next time.”

“That’s— I mean—”

“Anything you want to say?” Sokka teases. 

Zuko turns red, looking as if he’s about to explode with the effort of keeping himself silent. A few moments pass, and Sokka leans back against Appa’s leg, feeling a small smirk grow on his face. Katara makes a valiant effort to suppress a giggle.

“Alright, first of all, I have  _ no idea _ who this Boulder guy is, but the Blue Spirit is a  _ critically important  _ role that needs to be treated with  _ delicacy. _ ”

A few seconds pass, and then the entire group (minus Zuko) bursts into laughter.

“What are you laughing about? The Blue Spirit carries the thematic weight of the show, and without him the pacing would be absolutely f—” 

“We’re not— we’re not laughing at  _ you _ , Zuko,” Aang wheezes. “It’s just…”

“It’s hard to think we were ever afraid of you, back then,” Katara says.

“And to think, we could’ve been listening to Zuko’s hot theater takes from the beginning!” Sokka cries, lifting a hand to his head as if he’s going to faint.

“You just don’t understand true art,” Zuko sulks, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

“Oh, I don’t understand art?” Sokka interjects. “Well, I’ll have you know that in Ba Sing Se, I got into this haiku competition…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello again! it's been a minute since i last updated, and hopefully my future updates will be much more frequent. we're steadily approaching the end of the semester, which means plenty of writing time in my future! i appreciate you all being so understanding about my erratic schedule. 
> 
> story note: i'm picturing everyone in their usual book 3 outfits, just with long sleeves added for plot purposes. in a few chapters, we're going to enter MAJOR canon divergence territory...can't wait for you all to read what i have planned!! 
> 
> in the meantime, let me know how you felt about this one! i had a ton of fun writing it, and i hope you had just as much reading it!
> 
> p.s. feel free to listen to Fake ID by Riton and Kah-Lo on repeat while reading this--i did while writing!!


	10. the swordmaster's estate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sokka needs to be more than just the boomerang on his skin.
> 
> Zuko knows someone who can help with that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 3 cheers for 20k words??
> 
> a brief apology: i meant to have this one out to you much earlier, but i severely underestimated the amount of work i would have to do before and during finals, and all of my writing-related braincells were needed for other stuff. then, i got home and got hit with writers block and mandatory family time....not a good combo!
> 
> but anyways, thank you all for coming along on this ride with me!!! the reception to this fic in the last month has honestly been insane (500+ subscriptions??? 13000+ reads???? what???)....you guys are literally too nice to me...without further ado, here is a chapter i'm very excited for you all to read!
> 
> (ALSO I KNOW LITERALLY NOTHING ABOUT HOW MESSENGER HAWKS WORK)

The hawk is roused in the early morning by Fat-Captain-Who-Brings-Messages. Dawn is just barely breaking, and Guard-Who-Brings-Food is stifling a yawn by the captain’s side. He does not have the same warm hands and burning smell as the larger man, does not seem as accustomed to the early hour. Fat Captain is pacing.

“The traitor prince!” He breathes out, as if he can’t believe his luck. “The traitor prince, just outside of my village!” 

“I can’t believe that idiot came back to the Fire Nation! Who caught him?” Guard asks.

“Some old man saw him in town looking for supplies,” Fat Captain says, waving a hand. “But who cares about that? Just think of how we’ll be rewarded!”

“Promotions, do you think?” Guard replies.

“At the very least! Promotions, gold, statues…”

“Statues…” The men drift into thought for a moment.

A small cylinder of paper—  _ the cargo _ — is placed into the hawk’s harness. Not one, not two, but  _ three _ black ribbons are tied to the carrier. The men look downright gleeful.

“Deliver this to Princess Azula, on  _ The Bolt _ ,” Fat Captain commands. He holds up a small portrait of the princess, as well as her ship.

“Oh Agni, we’re about to be  _ heroes _ ,” Guard says, entranced.

The ground falls away as the hawk flaps its wings, and the golden light of the dawn fills its gaze. The black ribbons pull on the carrier strangely in the breeze.

The hawk soars for a minute. The hawk soars for hours. The Fire Nation’s volcanic archipelago gives way to endless ocean, which bleeds into the lush green coasts of the Earth Kingdom. The hawk is the village’s best, trusted with only the most important messages, so it knows to follow the dark, acrid plumes of smoke that follow in the wake of warships.

Soon enough, the hawk’s impeccable gaze lands on its destination— a familiar metal ship, moored just outside of a small Earth Kingdom village. The ethereal light of blue fire guides its descent as it glides down towards the deck on tired wings. It soars down to the blazing woman, and rests upon her outstretched arm.

“Three ribbons, girls,” she says with a sharp smile, looking rather hawklike herself. “You know what that means.”

She shrugs the hawk off of her arm after unloading the scroll from the carrier. Her smile widens into a full out grin as she inspects the small piece of paper.

“We’re going home.”

———

The picturesque Fire Nation countryside is burning right in front of Sokka’s eyes, and all he can do is watch. Literally.

Aang and Toph build trenches around the flaming hunk of meteor, and Zuko uses his bending to push back the flames that threaten to overtake them. Katara flies overhead on Appa, simultaneously waterbending the contents of a nearby creek onto the fiery rock. Sokka…watches. He holds Momo for a moment, until the lemur-bat actually proves to be a better helper than Sokka himself.

_ Why don’t I just throw my spirits-damned boomerang at it?  _ Sokka curses.  _ With my luck it would just fly straight back and hit me in the forehead. _

His fingers find their way to his soulmark, and the blue boomerang in the center that represents him. He traces the lines over and over again, examining it in the light of the dying fire. 

_ They each get to have a whole element, represent an entire nation, and I’m just a stupid weapon. Even the spirits think I’m lame. _

Sokka continues his tracing and train of thought well into the night, as the others finally extinguish the last of the flames. They crack jokes around the campfire as they stretch well-used muscles, and Sokka forces himself to laugh.

His self-deprecating thoughts follow him as he lies sleepless late into the night, and all throughout the next day as they pass through a new village. Today, he allows himself to stew in his bad mood instead of forcing a smile.

“Look at them all,” says Zuko. “Just going about their business as normal.”

“Seriously!” Aang cuts in. “They have no idea how close they came to getting toasted last night.”

_ Spirits, please, move on already, _ Sokka groans internally.

“Travelling in disguise is so lame,” Toph complains. “It’s kinda boring without all the hero worship we used to get. I miss the love.”

_ Boo-hoo. Poor heroes,  _ Sokka thinks.

Four heads turn his way.  _ Oops. _ He might’ve said that out loud.

“What’s going on with you?” Katara asks. “You haven’t even touched your food!”

“Sometimes it feels like I shouldn’t even be in this group,” Sokka says, defeated. “You guys can do all this amazing stuff— you’re all literally the best benders of your nations. And I… I’m not. I can’t do anything. Even our soulmark agrees.”

“That’s not true! You’re our plan guy, our map guy— we’d be lost without you!” Katara replies.

“Plus, you’re the funny one! If you weren’t here, who would tell all the jokes? Zuko?” Aang adds.

“Hey…” Zuko says, sounding a bit hurt.

“Thanks, guys.” Sokka lets out a long breath. “That’s nice, but it doesn’t really help. I’m just kind of...nothing next to you all. The token normal guy next to all the prodigies.”

His friends rush to reassure him, but Sokka can’t seem to hear their platitudes. Now that he’s let his insecurities become visible, they take on a life of their own. 

“Prodigies, huh…” Zuko muses. “I think I might have an idea.”

“What?” Sokka asks, pulled out of his spiral.

“I’m not sure if you guys were aware, but I’m generally considered to be the worst firebender in my family.”

“Dude, you’re like,  _ good _ .” Toph says. “Who even says that? What does that have to do with Snoozles?”

“My father, the court, just people, you know?” Zuko says. “Anyways, that part isn't really important. What I was  _ trying _ to say is that I know how it feels to grow up in the shadow of a prodigy. I mean, Azula is literally the  _ only living firebender _ to wield blue flames.”

“So what did you do about it?” Sokka asks. “What do you think I should do?”

He doesn’t mean to be snappy, he really doesn’t. He just can’t help but feel on edge.

“I was getting there,” Zuko says, exasperated. “It was a bad environment. I got in a bad headspace. My uncle noticed, and took me on a trip to meet a master swordsman who lives close to here. He told me I needed to learn something new, to make it my own. So, I did. I learned how to use the dual dao, and it honestly really helped.”

“That’s a great idea!” Aang says. “We’ve all had masters to help us learn!”

“I wouldn’t be where I am without Master Pakku,” Katara adds.

“And I had the badgermoles,” Toph says. “Sokka, I think you should talk to this guy.”

“Master Swordsman Sokka… I could get behind that,” Sokka says, feeling his spirits lift ever-so-slightly. “How do I meet him?”

“Well, he usually came to the palace to train me,” Zuko says. “I’ve only been here once, really, when I was beginning my training.”

“So what do I do? Just waltz on over and beg him to teach me?”

“I kinda just walked in, that one time. I mean, I was invited then…” Zuko trails off into thought, then tries for a reassuring smile. “Yeah, just knock.”

“Thanks for your help, dude,” Sokka says, clapping Zuko on the shoulder. “Really.”

“I honestly think the two of you will get along really well. He’s an interesting man.” Zuko smiles. “Anyways, he’d be a fool to turn you away.”

_ I hope you’re right,  _ Sokka thinks.

———

“So, what now?” Aang wonders aloud, as they watch Sokka’s form grow smaller and smaller as he walks away from their campsite.

“I’m already bored,” Toph says.

“I don’t know,” Katara says. “Sokka was always in charge of our schedule. I have no idea what we should be doing right now.”

“Aang, we could start your firebending training,” Zuko suggests.

“Uh…”

“I mean, we have time. You need to start at some point.”

“...I just remembered I need to check on Appa!” Aang says, lifting himself up with a gust of wind. “So I’m gonna go do that. Check on Appa. Bye!”

Zuko just sighs.

———

_ You should know that the master turns almost everyone away, _ the butler had said.

The words loop through Sokka’s brain on repeat, but not out of self-deprecation. Far from it, in fact. Sokka savors them, revels in Master Piandao’s selectivity, because they make him  _ special _ . He may not be a bending prodigy, but he has managed to succeed where so many others have failed.

Sokka is  _ still here.  _ Still standing behind Piandao’s gates, holding a practice sword. He’s getting the crap kicked out of him, sure, but he gets up, again and again. He’s still here.

Piandao sees his goofiness as creative thinking, his insecurity as humility. As their lessons progress, Sokka feels like he could sing.

_ Is this what it felt like for Katara to train with Pakku? _

It’s the thrill of holding his own, of finally managing to land on his feet. He’s felt flashes of this before— back on Kyoshi Island, when he was able to land a hit on Suki at last. Here, however, the feeling is enduring, burning steadily within Sokka’s heart.

He fights on, getting knocked down less and less during their training sessions. At the end of their first day, Master Piandao looks almost… proud?

“You’re ready for a real sword now,” he says. “It must be an extension of yourself— tomorrow, you will make your own.”

The master sends almost everyone away.  _ But not Sokka. _

———

Hauling the meteor to Piandao’s estate had provided a welcome respite from their boring, Sokka-less existence. After they return to camp, however, it’s back to the same old silence. Katara finds herself wandering around aimlessly, flopping down by Toph’s side when she sees the younger girl absorbed in a project.

“What are you doing with that rock?” Katara asks, watching Toph bend an abandoned fragment of meteor. 

“Making swords,” Toph replies.

“Sokka’s making his own, Toph,” Katara laughs. “I don’t think he needs any more.”

“They’re not for Sokka.”

“Oh, yeah? Then who?”

“These are for Zuko. He clearly misses his old ones.”

“Why don’t you just let him make his own?”

“Sokka needed to know that he could do it himself. Zuko, on the other hand, needs to know that people care enough about him to do things for him,” Toph says, still arm-deep in metal.

“Toph, that’s really—”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“Toph, I was just  _ trying _ to say—” 

“Not a  _ word _ , you hear me?” 

“Tui and La forbid Zuko catches wind of you doing something thoughtful, right?” Katara snorts.

“Exactly,” Toph says, waving a hand in Katara’s general direction. “Move along now. I’m focusing.”

It’s none of Katara’s business if she notices Zuko wandering around with a soft, wondering smile later that night, and Toph aiming more affectionate punches than usual his way.

What  _ is  _ Katara’s business, however, is how Zuko  _ definitely  _ moonlighted as a certain masked vigilante in Ba Sing Se. 

_ The double blades? The mask? Really? I can’t believe I didn’t notice earlier. Sokka is gonna lose his mind when he hears about this one. _

———

The group’s return from Piandao’s manor, this time  _ with _ Sokka, is nothing short of jubilant, even though Katara still seems a little shaken from watching her brother duel. Everyone takes turns admiring Sokka’s completed sword and complementing his moves, and he practically glows under the praise. Zuko gives himself a mental pat on the back for coming up with the plan.

Sokka seems to agree with Zuko’s sentiments, finding time later that night to pull him into a hug.

“I can’t thank you enough for this,” he says, finally releasing Zuko from his hold. “Every day I get more and more grateful you decided to join us back in Ba Sing Se. We all do.”

Zuko has no idea what to say in response, his face burning as red as his robes.

“I’m...I’m glad to be here with you guys too. Anyways, you know, Toph made these out of some of the scrap metal,” Zuko says, showing Sokka his new dao blades. 

“Are those…”

“Yes! I still need to work out some handles, and a sheath, but I was figuring I could help you practice when they’re—oof,” Zuko is interrupted as Sokka sweeps him into yet another rib-crushing hug.

“That would be cool,” Sokka whispers, sounding close to tears.

They disentangle after a moment, and Sokka strides away to engulf Toph in a hug of her own. Zuko feels more rested and at ease than he has in a long while.

_ Maybe I really am supposed to be with them. It doesn’t seem like I’m ruining their dynamic. Maybe me being here is making it better? _

As the moon hangs high in the sky later that night, Zuko silently pads away from his sleeping soulmates. Firebending meditation is traditionally done at sunrise, but Zuko doesn’t see the harm in breaking tradition a bit when he can’t seem to get his eyes to close. 

He walks a few minutes away from the campsite, and finds a comfortable-looking spot. Zuko lets a fire spark to life in his palms, and concentrates on matching his breath to its flickering. Just as he’s settling into a comfortable rhythm, he hears a small rustling noise behind him. He tries to focus back on his meditation, but the rustling noise returns, and then starts to sound distinctly like footsteps. 

Zuko bends the flame in his hands larger, just in time to see the silhouettes of three girls. Three  _ very familiar _ girls.

_ Azula. Mai. Ty Lee. They found me. They found  _ us.

“Hello, brother.”

“You’re here. How are you here?” Zuko says, reeling. His flames sputter out in shock.

“You really should be more careful about where you show your face. If you didn’t remember, it’s quite distinctive. Anyways, I think it’s time you paid Father a visit,” Azula says with a sickening smile. “You know, he’s just missed you  _ so _ much.”

“I’m not going anywhere near him,” Zuko spits back.

“Oh, but I think you are,” she replies. 

Just as Zuko lets his hands engulf themselves in flame, a series of punches hit his spine in rapid succession.

_ Ty Lee. _

His limbs deaden, and he falls face-first to the cold ground. He can hear Azula laughing somewhere above him. Zuko thinks he might be sick.

_ I can’t go back. I can’t go back. I’m going to die. Agni, I’m actually going to die. _

Desperately, he finds himself wishing he could call out for help. He almost does it, too— almost lets Toph’s name fall out of his mouth in an eardrum-bursting scream— before he remembers his position.

_ I’m alone. If they take me alone, the group is safe. Aang is out in the open— Azula can’t know he’s alive. I have to let her take me alone. _

Razor-sharp nails scratch Zuko’s scalp as his head is lifted up by his hair, derailing his train of thought.

“Not so high and mighty now, are we?” Azula simpers. “I think I rather like seeing you like this...exactly how you belong.”

“This isn’t going to make things better for you,” Zuko says, his blood boiling. Just because he’s resigned himself to going doesn’t mean that he’s going to make it easy on her. No, Zuko fully intends to light as many fires as he can on his way down.

“Actually, dear brother, I think it will. I’ve successfully accomplished my goal— to capture the Fire Nation’s most prominent traitor.”

“He must have been  _ so angry _ when you let me slip away in Ba Sing Se.”

“Father understands my tactics. Besides, that little mishap is now corrected,” Azula fires back.

“Sure he does. However, I am sure that you’ve seen just how quickly he can redirect his anger—just how easy it is to lose favor.”

“I’ve  _ never  _ lost favor. I  _ never  _ will. You forget I’m not nearly as stupid as you, Zuzu.”

“And  _ you _ forget that I’m not nearly as crazy as you are.”

Azula’s semi-composed demeanor shatters, just for a moment, as blue flame springs to life in her free hand. A split-second later, she extinguishes the flames, but the damage is done. Zuko has hit home. 

_ Forget about the others, _ Zuko silently pleads.  _ I’m the source of your anger. _

“I think I’ll save the torture until Father can see it for himself. He’ll be disappointed to miss out on any of the fun,” Azula says. “We leave for Caldera City immediately.”

She shoots a pointed glare somewhere behind Zuko, and everything fades away to inky darkness as one last punch is thrown his way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hehehehe....whoops! i know i SAID that the major canon divergence wouldn't be coming for a few more chapters but i guess i kinda lied a bit (not on purpose tho!!!)
> 
> good news for our story: i am officially done with my first semester of college...meaning tons of writing time in my future! i feel bad about how infrequent my updates have been for the last few months, so hopefully i can make it up to you all soon. (also i promise not to leave you on that cliffhanger for long! i've got loads of time to burn now!)
> 
> anyways, come yell at me in the comments!! you can also chat with me on tumblr @somethingyouwrote (i don't post super often, but i check it regularly)!


	11. on the road and in the dark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Toph wakes to the feeling of a body hitting the ground.
> 
> Azula savors the taste of victory.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey guys!! just wanted to let you all know that i've posted another atla work, and i'd be thrilled if you all checked it out. it's a bit of a different writing style for me (but in my opinion just as good), and i had a ton of fun doing it!
> 
> (i can't stop reading the chapter title to the tune of home by edward sharpe + the magnetic zeroes...send help)

Toph wakes to the feeling of a body hitting the ground. The sensation is distant, almost too far away for her to register at all. For a moment, she lays still, trying to calm her racing heart. This isn’t the first time that she’s risen like this—far from it, in fact. No member of their group is a stranger to nightmares. She attempts to steady herself by taking deep, forceful breaths, but still can’t seem to shake the residual echoes of what she’d felt. 

_ Something about this feels… different, somehow,  _ she thinks.  _ More real than a dream. _

Abandoning the idea of sleep for a moment, she sits up fully, placing the soles of her feet on the ground.

_ Appa’s here, and Aang’s right next to him. Sokka… and Katara.  _ Her heart drops quicker than she can form a hole with her earthbending.  _ Sparky. Where’s Sparky? _

Toph stands, shifting her feet around to gain a better feel of the area surrounding their campsite. Nothing at the campsite.

_ He might just be in the woods, _ she tells herself. She sinks into a deeper earthbending stance, and sends her gaze out wider.

Nothing.

_ Wider,  _ she commands herself, limbs almost aching with the strain of the tiny tremors she’s sending out.

Nothing, nothing, nothing.

A wave of nausea bubbles up in her chest. She slams her hands into the ground, leaving handprints etched in the rock.

With a twitch of her leg, she sends rocks to wake her sleeping friends. In moments, they’re all standing in very sleepy approximations of their typical fighting forms. Sokka whirls in place with his newly forged sword in hand until his eyes light on her.

“Toph?”

Suddenly, she finds it hard to speak, the once-inexhaustible well of brashness and bravery inside her running completely dry.

“What’s going on?” Aang asks. “Are you okay?”

“Wait, why isn’t Zuko up?” Katara thinks aloud, rubbing her eyes. Zuko can have a surprisingly quiet presence when he wants to, but Katara must be realizing that this level of silence is unusual, even for him. Still, Toph can’t bring herself to open her mouth. Sokka’s eyes must land on Zuko’s unattended things: his empty bedroll, the unfinished swords wrapped painstakingly in layers of old Earth Kingdom clothing.

“Toph,” Sokka says, fear creeping into his voice, making his heartbeat thump with an unusual arrhythmia. “Where’s Zuko?”

And with that, the dam breaks.

“I can’t— I can’t feel him,” she says, with a hiccuping sob. “I felt a body drop and I woke up just like it was a nightmare except it’s real, and he’s gone, and I can’t  _ see him _ . Sokka, I should be able to see him.”

She sends out another pulse through the rock below her, desperate for something, anything. Toph is reaching just shy of the nearest village and the overwhelming sensory input is too much, yet still not enough.

_ I can’t find him. Greatest earthbender of all time, and I can’t find our stupid, idiotic, reckless firebender.  _

Distantly, she’s aware of Aang in an earthbending form next to her, repeating the same motions she had gone through just moments before. Katara appears at her side, one hand on her shoulder.

“How far out can you feel right now?” she asks.

“I’m almost at the nearest village,” she says, hands still on the ground.  _ One last push. Wider. _

“The nearest village…” Katara trails off. Her voice is calm, unlike her heartbeat. She’s probably forcing herself to stay collected for the group’s sake. “Sokka, how far are we from the nearest village?”

“Huh?” he says, as if jolted out of thought. “Miles, at least. We didn’t camp exactly close.”

“Toph, you’re reaching that far?” Aang asks. “How are you— that shouldn’t be possible.”

“Just a little more,” Toph says, pushing out one last wave with all her strength. 

She braces for the onslaught of sensation, but it’s so much more than she had expected. Clearing her mind, she forces herself to let it wash over her in waves. Nothing, nothing, nothing, until— 

“Entering the village now,” she says, panting. “Wood and metal wagon, moving fast. Can’t see inside.”

She tries to stand, but instead finds herself tipping over into Katara’s embrace. The nausea and vertigo she had been ignoring during her search return in full force. 

With an air of detachment, Toph feels herself being lifted into Appa’s saddle, bits and pieces of luggage and equipment hastily thrown up alongside her. They take to the air, and she presses into Sokka’s side, gritting her teeth against the sickening feeling.

After meeting her soulmates, Toph had spent months nursing a tiny seed of jealousy, buried deep inside her. She had never much cared that she couldn’t see the world the way everyone else did— that is, until she was told that she had a soulmark running up the length of her arm. Bright and vivid to the world, but completely invisible to her, as it was devoid of any texture she might have used to feel it for herself.

_ You’ve seen nothing once, you’ve seen it a thousand times, _ she would remind herself.  _ You don’t need to see it to know it’s there. _

Forget the jealousy of the past. Tonight, Toph is grateful that she won’t have to spend the coming hours catching glimpses of Zuko’s illustrated flames out of the corners of her eyes; that she won’t have to watch as Aang’s sniffles turn into sobs, as quick tears run down Katara’s cheeks. It’s enough to feel the tremors of Sokka’s hands in her own limbs, the sickening lack of a fifth, flighty heartbeat in their midst.

Feeling is enough— too much, even. After all, she doesn’t need to lay eyes on her little family’s misery to know it’s there.

———

Azula loves the taste of victory. Loves it, craves it— needs it, even. The sensation of winning is sewn into each and every aspect of her life; it’s more of a guiding force than those fabled red strings of fate fools love to chatter about.

When she sees Zuko slumped on the forest floor, unresponsive at last, she feels like she can breathe for the first time in weeks. She allows herself to savor the moment, filling her lungs entirely with the cooling night air. 

Azula looks down on her brother’s motionless form. When she shuts her eyes, the image lingers behind as if permanently burned into her field of vision.

_ Remember this, _ she tells herself.  _ This is a victory, but also redemption. I won, but I never should’ve let it get this far. _

“Azula?” Ty Lee asks softly. Azula opens her eyes.

“Move him into the wagon,” she says. “We’ll board the war balloon as soon as we make it back to town. I want us back in Caldera City as soon as possible.”

Ty Lee grabs Zuko’s legs, and Mai his arms, hoisting his prone body into the wooden vehicle with hidden strength. Azula’s lieutenants  _ (Friends? Does a princess have friends?)  _ are as loyal as ever, but she’d have to be a fool to miss the way that Mai sets her traitorous brother down with unnecessary gentleness.

_ I’ll make sure to speak to her about that later, _ Azula muses.  _ Still, Mai’s no fool. She knows her place. _

Azula swings up into the wagon beside Mai, and Ty Lee takes a seat up front, directing the dragon moose pulling the cart. Zuko lies at her feet like a sack of fat apple-potatoes. It would be so, so painfully easy to just give him a kick.

_ Lead by example, Azula. Show your strength. _

She almost does it, too, drawing back her armor-plated boot to strengthen the blow— until she is stopped by a small noise. Mai sighs beside Azula, fainter than her usual show of boredom. Azula’s foot slows, and Zuko receives a poke in the side and a disgusted look instead of a bruised rib.

Azula turns to study the girl sitting beside her. Mai holds an unused shuriken in her hands, the edges specially sharpened for this night.

“It’s over now,” Mai says, flat as ever. “All of it.”

“Don’t tell me you’re surprised,” Azula fires back. “Of course we succeeded.”

The blade twirls between Mai’s fingers, briefly joined by another that disappears up her sleeves just as quickly.

“Right.” She lets out a slow breath. “I suppose I just wasn’t expecting to succeed like this. So quickly, I mean.”

“It’s a pity you didn’t get to have your target practice,” Azula says with a slight smile. Mai looks down at Zuko’s body again.

“Yeah. It’s a pity.”

The wagon jolts into motion, and the girls ride side by side in silence, watching as the clearing recedes from view. Ty Lee steers their wagon onto a dirt road, clearly used frequently by the island’s peasant population. Their pace increases until they’re flying along close to maximum speed.

_ It seems Ty Lee wants to hurry this along just as much as I do, _ Azula muses.

When they finally reach the village, they stop short of the town square, switching into a strategically-placed second wagon that will take them to their war balloon. With a stray coin, Mai pays off some passing villager to drive the original cart far away from their party.

_ Those miserable sailors better be ready to depart the second our balloon lands on the ship. _

Normally, Azula would delight in dragging Zuko through the streets like the war prisoner that he is— living proof of her cleverness and fighting prowess. This time, however, Azula is shooting for a touch of secrecy. 

No passing general or foolish local soldier may claim involvement in this, Azula’s most important achievement. She has to earn her father’s esteem back  _ herself _ , can’t be seen relying on an abundance of troops to pad her landing. With any luck, they’ll be undetected until  _ The Bolt  _ passes through the Gates of Azulon.

Their second transfer goes as well as the first, and they take to the skies shortly after. The small village fades from view quickly, overtaken by more untamed forest.

Mai sighs. Azula allows a small ribbon of blue flame to dance between her fingers. Ty Lee makes to move into a backbend, but quickly thinks better of it.

“Y’know, Azula, I think I’m going to miss traveling around with you and Mai,” Ty Lee says with a faint smile. She glances at Zuko on the floor. “It’s a little sad it had to end like this.”

“Don’t tell me you feel  _ sorry  _ for him, now,” Azula bites. “He brought this on  _ himself _ . This is a victory for the Fire Nation. This is justice.”

“Well, of course!” Ty Lee brightens in a matter of moments. “I’m just sad it’s over so soon! You’re the best the Fire Nation has—I should’ve anticipated how quickly you would get this done.”

Mai hums, on the side, examining a new set of shuriken.

Just as Azula opens her mouth to reply, a groan comes from the floor. Zuko stirs slightly, pressing a hand to the spot on his head where Ty Lee had knocked him out earlier.

“What’s going on?” he murmurs, slurring his words.  _ Probably concussed. _

Mai and Ty Lee look to Azula for directions. She considers their prisoner for a moment.

“Block his bending again, but don’t knock him out just yet.”

Ty Lee nods, hitting a few pressure points on Zuko’s back in quick succession. He groans again, slumping completely on the floor as he loses control of his limbs once again.

“I honestly wonder what you thought you were doing,” she says.

“The right thing. I was doing the right thing. Unlike you.”

Azula’s blood boils.  _ How dare a traitor insult my morals? I’m the heir to the entire Agni-damned Fire Nation! _

Briefly, Ozai’s face floats in her mind. He holds out a handful of fire, draws closer, closer closer—  _ Failure. _

“I wouldn’t be so sure of that,” she spits. “Anyways, it’s not like you need to worry about that much longer. You’ll be joining your other little soulmate in the Spirit World soon enough.”

Zuko falls silent. It seems that Azula has struck a nerve.

“You thought this was going to save you, idiot?” Azula grabs Zuko’s limp arm, putting his soulmark on display. “It’s nothing but a  _ weakness _ . Look where it got you! You don’t have to be as smart as me to see that there’s no way out of this one.”

A normal person might miss the glimmer of a single tear on Zuko’s cheek in the low light of the dawn. However, Azula is far from a normal person. She is a weapon, trained not to let the smallest detail escape her notice. She watches with perfect clarity as her brother shakes almost imperceptibly, repressing small sobs.

_ I’ve won. In body and spirit, I’ve hurt my enemy.  _

She tries to savor the feeling, rolling it around in her mind like one might enjoy a hard candy. And yet, something’s not quite right. Azula feels on edge, her blood refusing to sing the same way it had when she had infiltrated Ba Sing Se.

_ I beat him. That stupid, cowardly, traitorous lump is crying on the floor. So why am I not as happy as I should be? Why don’t I feel happy at all? _

Azula supposes it doesn’t matter much anymore, anyways. She has what she needs, and that’s all that’s important. She can almost see her father’s approving smile, can almost taste the forgiveness she’s sure to receive.

“Ty Lee, would you do the honors?” Azula drawls. She makes a point of maintaining eye contact as her thrashing brother is knocked unconscious once more. Splayed out on the ground as he is, one could easily mistake him for a dead man.

_ He will be, soon enough _ , she reminds herself.  _ When he’s taken care of, I can correct what’s wrong with me. Then I’ll root out the others and my victory will be  _ absolute.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> damn it feels FUN to write azula again!!! idk what it is about her but she absolutely demanded to be written this chapter. hope you guys don't mind the pov-hopping too much--i've kinda given up on having any consistency in who gets to speak lol. also i was feeling significantly more evil than normal with all of the hurt in this one....sorry!
> 
> i want to sincerely thank you all for all of your comments on this work. i know i don't update super frequently, so it means the world that you've all decided to stick with me on this journey. when i hear from you guys it never fails to make my day!! (so please keep em coming lol)


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